


For A Day

by charis2770



Series: Finding Vengeance...or is it Something Else? [38]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Anal Plug, Asami buying Akihito camera stuff, Assault, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BAMF Akihito, BDSM, Because you know this shit gonna get filthy, Hand Jobs, It's by a stranger though, M/M, Multi, Non-consensual slut shaming, Oral Sex, Oral sex in a public bathroom, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Roleplay, Semi-Public Humiliation, Sex in the Limo, Sexual Assault, Sexual Fantasy, Shopping, Slash, Spanking, Tagged explicit for upcoming chapters, Very brief non-consensual spanking, Vibrators, Violence, Yaoi, anniversary fic, minor exhibitionism, not graphic though, sex slaves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2018-11-18 05:30:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11284668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charis2770/pseuds/charis2770
Summary: Akihito finds out that Asami has long had a fantasy of having his lovers be his sex slaves for just a day, but has kept it to himself because he knew Akihito doesn't have any desire to be his slave. But what Akihito does have, is the desire to give Asami something he thinks he'll never have. After all, it's just one day.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this story came about, once again, from my blog Askasamifeiandaki.tumblr.com. Someone commented that Asami keeps kind of giving Akihito and Feilong what they need and want, and asked if he himself had any fantasies that hadn't yet been fulfilled. His answer was this. In this series, the boys have come a long way together, and built up a lot of trust. Akihito is more than willing to play this game for a day, especially if it will make Asami happy. He doesn't think it will really be much different from any other day when Asami decides on marathon kinky sex, he'll just be really obedient for once.
> 
> Akihito has seriously underestimated how much Asami has been holding back. And not in the way he thinks.

It’s today. Today is the anniversary of the day Feilong had said “yes” when they’d lured him to the penthouse under false pretenses and so many things had changed. Since he’d learned of Asami’s one secret fantasy that he’d never told Aki out of concern for his feelings, Akihito has been thinking about it. A lot. And he’d spent hours talking it over with Feilong. Because for the first time since he’d met his powerful, charismatic, wealthy and sometimes overwhelmingly dominating lover, he hadn’t felt edgy and uncomfortable in his own skin when Asami had confessed that he sometimes thought about how much he’d like for his lovers to play at being his sex slaves for a day. 

 

Asami has always told him that he doesn’t  _ want _ declarations of submission from Akihito, that he doesn’t need a collar or subservience, that the things that draw him to Aki are his spirit and the fact that he  _ doesn’t _ trip over himself to lick Asami’s shoes. And Akihito believes him, because Asami has certainly proved it to him too many times to count. No, the only thing that had made him feel twitchy about Asami’s confession, when he’d been pressed into making it, had been that Asami had felt he needed to keep it to himself for so long, because he’d been so sure that even the thought of it would send Akihito fleeing for the hills in some emotion ranging from anger to discomfort to actual panic.

 

And a year ago, it  _ would _ have. Because he’d have been sure that, deep down, it meant it was what Asami  _ really _ wanted from him, and knowing that he’d probably never be comfortable giving it would have made him doubt the security of his place in Asami’s life  _ again _ . But a lot of things have happened since then. They’ve been through a lot together. They’ve faced some dangerous situations together. Like, actually together and not with Asami placating Akihito with some fake responsibility to keep him out of the way. Asami has  _ listened _ to him, and even changed his mind about some things because of Aki’s words, and that respect has changed them. And Akihito has learned things about himself, been able to be honest about what he wants from Asami instead of being too embarrassed to admit them. 

 

Most of the things Asami wants from Akihito or Feilong, or both of them, he just takes (or gives) because he knows them both well enough to know that they’re going to like those things as much as he does. At least, for a long time, Akihito had  _ thought _ that was what it was, and he does know it’s part of it. Or well, that Asami  _ likes _ all the things they do. A lot. But if he’s completely honest with himself, Asami really does a lot more giving than taking, for all that he’s used to accuse the man of being a selfish bastard for a very long time. The real truth is that what Asami actually does is fulfill  _ Akihito’s _ fantasies all the time. He’s just...understood Aki’s fantasies better than Akihito has understood them himself.

 

And so he’d thought about it a lot. And then he’d talked to Feilong about it a lot. Feilong, of course, hadn’t had even the slightest reservations about going through with such an idea. It had sounded like fun to him from the moment the words had left Akihito’s mouth, but Feilong has known for most of his life what  _ his _ secret desires are, and doing this for Asami isn’t any kind of stretch for him at all. He’d been worried about Aki though.

 

“Are you sure this is something you want to do, Ototo?”

 

“...Yeah, you know, I actually am sure. That’s not what I’m worried about. I’d have been scared shitless to do a roleplay like this a year ago, but I’m not anymore. Not after...everything,” Aki had said, fidgeting with a loose thread on the knee of his worn jeans. “I mean, how many fantasies has he fulfilled for us? What I’m worried about is that I don’t know what to  _ do _ .”

 

“I see. Well, that’s really the easy part. All you have to do is obey everything he says. But do you think you can? Part of the way you do things to….achieve the end result you desire...is to talk back to him or argue with him or...provoke him a little.”

 

“I know. But those are games we play, and we both know that. Now, anyway. I think I can turn it off for a day. I mean, I turn it off when we do the ageplay thing, right?” he’d asked.

 

“That’s true,” Feilong had mused. “I think you’ll be fine, then. Aki, there’s a  _ part _ of you that  _ is _ submissive to Asami outside the bedroom. You don’t cook or do laundry for him because you want to ‘pay your way.’ That’s an excuse, or, it is  _ now _ , even if it wasn’t when you first moved in here. You do it to show him you care, and you fix nice meals for him because you know he works long hours and sometimes under stressful conditions and you want to make him feel happy to be home. You may not realize it, but you read his moods more instinctively than anyone ever has, even Kirishima, though I don’t think I’ll say that in front of the man. He might never recover. You always know whether to poke at him, or provoke him, or to make silly jokes that make him smile. You can tell when he’s tired and just wants a nice meal and a hot bath and to go to bed, or when he’s frustrated and needs to let it out on something...or someone...and you give him an...entertaining way to do that with your smart mouthed comments. It gets you what you want, of course, to be ‘punished,’ but you also never do it when he isn’t in the mood for it. All of those things, the way you manage him and take care of him, are acts of service, of a kind. He knows this, even if you haven’t seen it. It means a great deal to him. I think that if you can tap into that mentality and….hm...combine it a bit with the mentality of your younger self who adores his Uncle and seeks his approval so earnestly, you will have exactly what you need to make this work.”

 

“Huh,” Aki had said. “You know, you’re right. I guess I never consciously thought of it that way, but if I look at it the way you said, I think...yeah, I don’t think I’ll be as worried about screwing it up for him. So that’s...that’s how a slave thinks?” Feilong had smiled at him.

 

“Everyone is different, darling. But I think that if  _ you _ were a slave, that is how  _ you _ would think. Just make sure not to let yourself start to doubt that who you really are is exactly who he wants. This will be a  _ game _ , just as our other roleplays are games. It’s about pretending to be someone else for a little while, and doing things in a different way than usual.”

 

“No, I know that. I don’t think I’d have even considered actually doing this if I had any doubts about that. I did for a long time. Listened too much to jealous assholes telling me he was gonna get tired of slumming and drop me like yesterday’s trash. Kirishima and Suoh thought I was bad for him at first, and  _ that _ made me wonder why he kept me around. And spending so much time being scared of my own feelings and...er. Needs? Scared me for a long time.”

 

“Kirishima and Suoh were wrong,” Feilong had muttered darkly. “They should apologize to you.”

 

“Well, they’ve both said they were wrong, in their own ways, and I’m good with that. Because they  _ weren’t _ wrong at first. Asami wouldn’t have put himself in danger so many times if I hadn’t been fighting him so hard for so long. It’s different now. And I want to do this. I think I can do it without fucking it up now. Thanks, Ani. You know, next week is the 7th. I think we should do it then. It’s sort of a...special occasion, y’know?”

 

“Mm. I’m pleased you think so,” Feilong had mused with a smirk. “But it’s as good a time as any.”

 

“Let’s surprise him!” Akihito loves surprises. Feilong had expressed his doubts as to the wisdom of this, but Aki had begged and wheedled until he’d reluctantly agreed.

 

Of course, knowing better than his younger lover did what Asami would want out of a day like they were proposing to give him, Feilong waited exactly one day before seeking the older man out while Akihito was out on an assignment and ratting him out. Asami’s smile when Feilong had coolly informed him he’d be getting two willing slaves for 24 hours as an Anniversary gift had been positively feral. It had lasted a few moments before it flickered.

 

“And...you’re certain he’s okay with this?” he’d questioned Fei cautiously. It had been Feilong’s turn to grin.

 

“He is. I’m equally certain he has no idea what’s really in store for him. He wanted it to be a surprise, but I know you. You’re going to need some time to prepare. He doesn’t know how much you’ve been holding back, and I know you’re going to want to take full advantage. Since the whole thing will be simple for me, consider the advance notice  _ my _ gift to you. Oh, and I expect to be pampered just as ridiculously, even though I’ve never tried to stop you before, just so you know.”

 

Asami had laughed at him.

 

“Well, it would only make him feel more awkward about it if I didn’t, wouldn’t it,” he’d chuckled. Feilong had smiled serenely.

 

“It would indeed. My motives are entirely altruistic, of course,” Feilong had said with a completely straight face.

 

“Oh, I’m sure. Thank you for telling me, Bishounen. I’ll pretend to be surprised very convincingly. But you’re right. Poor Akihito. He really has no idea what he’s in for.” 

 

Feilong had let himself out, smiling over his shoulder. Asami had picked up his phone, opening up his contacts list and started making appointments.

 

****

 

Which brings them to today. It’s time, and Akihito is jittery with nerves and excitement. He’d set a vibrating alarm for quite a bit earlier than usual on a Saturday. Asami had gotten in quite late, as he often did on Friday nights, because he so often had more to do on Fridays in order to free up his weekends, something he’d started doing a few months ago, whereas before he’d had two lovers in his life that he actually wanted to spend time with, he’d most often worked through the weekend, rarely taking time off at all, so he’d gone to bed late as well, and was still asleep, to Akihito’s relief. He slipped very carefully from the bed and tiptoed from the room, unaware of rich amber eyes sliding open and watching him, a predatory smile on the face of his “slumbering” Master.

 

He meets Feilong in the hallway outside the door, fidgeting impatiently. Feilong looks resplendent as always, wearing an elegant and beautiful red and gold yukata that looks wonderful with his black hair.

 

“I...I want to fix him a nice breakfast. Will you help me? What should I wear? Should we just be naked? I don’t own a collar, and I don’t think I can sneak into the playroom to get one without waking him up,” he babbled, practically dancing with impatience. Feilong manages not to laugh, placing a hand on his shoulder to settle him down.

 

“I’ll make the tea, which is about all I’m good for, but it will be perfect, of course. Put on the yukata he gave you for White Day, the green and gold one that matches mine. And don’t worry about the collar. If he wants us in them, he’ll choose for you. Aside from preparing our Master’s morning meal, you just leave the rest of the decisions up to him, the same way you do when we’re playing with Uncle Ryu. You already know how to do this, Aki-kun,” says Feilong calmly. Akihito sucks in a deep breath and calms himself. Of course, Feilong is right. He’s been making breakfast for Asami for a long time, and the steps of it are practically muscle memory now. He thinks about how simple it is for his younger self to just leave everything up to his Uncle, and lets his worries go. Opening the door, they slip inside and he hurries to his rarely-used bedroom to snag the silk yukata off its hanger in his closet. He almost never wears robes of any kind, and when he does go to festivals, he usually wears his simpler, cotton yukata, not wanting to get the fancy, expensive one Asami had given him dirty or spoiled, so he’s rarely worn it. Not that he doesn’t love it, he just hasn’t had many opportunities to wear it. The silk feels wonderful, if a little alien, on his skin, and he shivers a bit as he hurries back to the kitchen to start breakfast. He hopes they’ll be able to finish before Asami gets up. 

 

Feilong, on the other hand, has no such concerns, and just hums calmly when Akihito mentions it as he hurries into the kitchen and starts gathering ingredients. Unlike Aki, he knows perfectly well that Asami had probably awoken the moment Akihito did, and will time his entrance to the second while managing to make it look unplanned. He fills the tea kettle and selects his favorite cast iron tea pot, filling it with hot water from the filter to warm while the water boils. He takes down boxes of tea, carefully measuring leaves and pearls from them, creating a blend he thinks Asami will like. As much as he prefers the pure, delicate floral flavor and aroma of his favorite oolong, Asami usually drinks straight, dark gunpowder tea for breakfast, which he thinks is a touch barbaric. This blend will meet Asami’s preference for strong, dark tea, but also meet his own criteria for flavor.

 

As the water boils, he does actually manage to be more helpful to Akihito than just the tea, since he at least knows how to use a rice steamer, so he takes care of that while Aki rushes about the kitchen, efficiently starting miso soup, setting fillets of sweet, flaky sea bass on the cast iron broiler, delicately seasoned, measuring out soy sauce, slicing pickled radish, and setting out the bonito flakes and eggs to be mixed with the rice when it’s done. Most mornings, Akihito uses leftovers to put together breakfast, but today, since it’s special, they’ll be treated to a full, freshly made traditional breakfast. Asami loves his ochazuke, no matter how it’s made, so he knows his lover will like what he’s preparing, and hopes it will fortify his own body for whatever rigors are involved with being Asami’s devoted sex slave for an entire day. His belly clenches with warmth at the thought. He expects to be exhausted and awfully sore by the end, but it will be worth it to give Asami this gift. 

 

Asami wanders into the kitchen, looking sleepy and tousled in his cashmere bathrobe, fresh from the shower Akihito hadn’t even heard running in his utter concentration on fixing a perfect breakfast at record speed, just as Aki is pulling the perfectly broiled fish from the oven as Feilong stirs raw egg, bonito flakes, soy sauce and a little tea into the rice. Asami stops, his golden eyes taking in the sight of them in silk, elegant brows raising in surprise and a bit of confusion.

 

“What’s all this?” he asks, his voice a deep, sleepy rumble. Akihito cheers inwardly at having pulled it off while Feilong catches Asami’s eye and turns away to hide his smirk. Akihito walks to Asami, butterflies in his stomach. He goes up on tiptoe to brush a kiss across Asami’s cheek, then sinks to his knees as gracefully as he can manage, bowing his head as he sweeps the hem of his yukata back. Asami takes a step back, making a startled sound in his chest.

 

“Good morning, M-master,” he breathes, “your breakfast is ready.”

 

“Akihito? What are you doing?” Asami asks, frowning in confusion.

 

“H-happy Anniversary?” says Akihito, overcome with shyness, keeping his eyes pinned to the floor until strong fingers cup his chin and force his head up easily. Golden hawk eyes pin him where he kneels, searching his own hazel eyes carefully.

 

“Is this about my answer to that question? The one about whether  _ I _ have any fantasies we’ve yet to explore?” Asami’s voice is calm, but Aki can hear the faint thread of tension in it, can see it thrumming in Asami’s body through the way his fingers tighten just a little on his chin. He nods. Asami glances at Feilong, who simply leans against the table looking indolent and satisfied as a cat, smirking faintly. He also nods, letting his long hair fall over half his face, not out of shyness but because he knows it looks becoming. Asami returns his penetrating stare to Akihito. “Akihito,” he says softly, “are you  _ sure _ ?”

 

“Yes,” says Aki breathlessly. “Yes, I’m sure. Asami. I trust you. You give us what we want, what we need, all the time. I...I couldn’t ever be a good slave. Hell, I’m only a good sub every now and then. But we...what we all have together, it works, and I’m happy, and I finally understand so many things. I want to do this. For you.”

 

“First of all, I want you to know that I don’t need this from you. I wouldn’t want you to change who you are to try to make me happier, because you couldn’t if you tried. And by saying that, I do  _ not _ mean the ‘you couldn’t change’ part, do you understand?” says Asami softly. A surge of love that he can’t conceal fills Akihito’s heart, because Asami rarely talks about his feelings so candidly. A brilliant smile blooms across the boy’s face. Asami smiles back, a small quirk of his lips, but his eyes remain serious. “If you’re doing this to try to placate some need you think I have that isn’t being met, then this stops right now.”

 

“No! No, that’s not why. Feilong and I, we talked about this a lot. It’s like...a roleplay. Like the others we’ve done. And I can get into that. We  _ belong _ to you today, Asami. Not...not in the same way that I’m  _ yours _ for as long as….as it works. As in, you own us. I’m sure.” Akihito is pleased that his butterflies do not lend any tremor to his voice. Asami looks at him solemnly for a few more seconds, then nods once and takes a step back.

 

“Alright then. I agree, and gladly. Understand this, little slave. As my property, your right to use your safeword  _ is _ still in effect, but you are not allowed to use it just because you’re unhappy with an order I give you, or something makes you uncomfortable. I will always respect it, but it is to be reserved only for when you are truly in physical or mental  _ distress _ that you can’t handle, or there is something of which I truly need to be made aware. You must trust me to know your limits, and obey. In all things.”

 

“I understand,” whispers Aki, the adrenaline junkie in him thrilling a little at the prospect of having his limits pushed in the ways only Asami knows how to safely push them.

 

“Good,” says Asami. Then he leans down, tipping Akihito’s head back further, and captures his mouth in a bruising kiss. He growls softly against the young photographer’s lips, leaving a stinging bite on Aki’s bottom lip as he pulls back. “Now, you may stand. Serve us this breakfast you’ve prepared. It smells very good.” Asami turns his back and strides over to Feilong, fisting a hand in his silky hair and yanking his head back to kiss him as well. “You may pour the tea,” he purrs against Fei’s mouth.

 

“With pleasure, Master,” says Feilong smoothly. 

 

Akihito doles out the food onto their dishes, making sure to fill Asami’s first, while Feilong fills their cups. They both step back and wait for Asami to sit. Akihito hovers, unsure what to do, but Feilong stands and waits patiently, so he does too. Asami takes a sip of his tea and nods in approval, then looks at them.

 

“Join me,” he orders, gesturing to their places at the table, “and eat. I’ve always found it gives me a crick in my neck to try to have any kind of conversation with a person who’s sitting on the floor. At mealtimes anyway, you’ll sit at the table with me.”

 

Akihito obeys hurriedly while Feilong slides into his own seat. They eat in companionable silence for the most part, appreciating the meal. Asami compliments his cooking. This is nothing new, he’s almost always appreciative, but the words seem to have more weight today. His cheeks flush with warmth at the compliment.

 

“I’m glad you like it,” he whispers, ducking his head.

 

“Make sure to eat your fill,” says Asami. “You’ll probably need the energy. But don’t dally. I’d like you both to be finished and dressed in an hour.”

 

Dressed? Akihito frowns in confusion at this statement, but he doesn’t want to start out the day questioning his “Master” from the get-go, so he eats hurriedly. Before he and Feilong are done, Asami, who is an old pro at efficiency, has finished, and rises to head for the living room.

 

“I’m going to read the paper while you finish up, clean the kitchen, and get ready,” he says casually over his shoulder.

 

“Is...is there anything in particular you’d like me to wear?” asks Akihito, hoping the answer is yes so it might give him a clue.

 

“No,” says Asami with a smile. “Where we’re going, it won’t matter.”

 

_ Wait. Going? _ He overhears Asami phone Suoh and tell him to bring the limo around in half an hour, which only serves to increase his confusion. They’re going  _ out _ ? His brain is spinning as he showers quickly and dresses himself in a decent shirt and one of his nicer pairs of jeans, selecting his boots instead of his ragged trainers for footwear. Asami is waiting patiently in the living room when he hurries in, joined by Feilong who looks as casually elegant as he does every day in a silk tunic and soft black pants. There’s a small black duffle bag at his feet where he sits, reading the paper as if nothing at all were out of the ordinary. Aki does his best to hide his confusion. He’d assumed that Asami would want to make….well,  _ use _ of his  _ sex slaves _ immediately, but here they are, preparing to go  _ out _ ? Something tells him, a small voice in the back of his mind, that he may have seriously underestimated Asami when he’d come up with this idea.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akihito finds out where Asami is taking them.
> 
> He also finds out he may have been wrong about a few things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is kind of a short chapter. I've been having issues with typing for very long recently due to a minor injury, but I really wanted to get some more content published on this one. Still not a lot of smut yet, but I promise we're getting there!

Akihito’s confusion only grows. The limo glides smoothly and silently through the ever-present snarl of Tokyo’s traffic with ease, Suoh negotiating it with consummate skill. Asami pays almost no attention to Feilong or Aki, pulling out his phone and doing something on it that Akihito can’t see; he could be texting, or answering emails, or arranging his calendar, or buying Sri Lanka. At first it only makes sense to him. Even though Asami takes most weekends off, it’s not unusual for him to have  _ some _ work to do, which he mostly does at home nowadays. He even thinks for a few minutes that perhaps they’re headed to Asami’s office. They had, after all, sprung this on him as a surprise, and it wouldn’t be completely unusual for him to have had some meeting he’d set up for this morning that he couldn’t get out of. 

 

But when they pass the turn that would lead them to Asami’s office, Aki turns his head to watch th street pass with a frown of confusion. It can’t be Kuroda either. When Asami does meet with the man, it’s either at the Penthouse or on weekends when Kuroda’s not supposed to be working, but they pass the part of town Asami meets  _ him _ in too, when the prosecutor can’t make it to their home. They enter Harajuku, one of the more upscale shopping and entertainment districts. It’s way too early for business at one of Asami’s clubs, too early for lunch and they’ve just recently eaten breakfast. He’s dying to ask. The real Akihito would be pestering Asami for answers right now, but that’s not who he is today. He sits still and quiet, his hands folded in his lap, mimicking Feilong. And goes crazy on the inside.

 

They pull up in front of a very fancy store Aki’s never been to before. The front is all clean, modern stone and brushed metal. The two tasteful window displays exhibit really fancy mannequins in suits that look like they cost more than Akihito makes in a year, accented with displays of ties in all colors and shiny leather shoes and trays showing off watches and cufflinks. The sign above the doors is in English, and Akihito can’t tell what it says, but as the limo comes to a complete stop, he sees the the words are repeated in shiny gold lettering on the glass of the doors themselves, with a translation in Japanese below them; United Arrows, along with the business hours. The store doesn’t open for another hour. But Suoh is getting out and opening the door for them, Asami sliding from the car and tilting his head for them to follow, and suddenly Akihito realizes how neatly he’s been tricked. 

 

“Ohh, you sneaky bastard,” he breathes softly before he climbs out after Feilong. Asami, who couldn’t possibly have heard him, slants him a sharp look and then smirks. His hand closes very gently around Akihito’s elbow to guide him to the doors, which  _ of course _ are opened for them by a young, well-dressed man in a dark suit with a blue shirt and banded collar who bows and greets Asami by name. Asami inclines his head.

 

“Thank you, Daichi-kun. Felix is here, I presume?”

 

“Of course, Asami-sama. He’s waiting for you and your party in the fitting area,” says the young man, bowing again.

 

“Will you show Feilong the way? And is there an office I could use for just a few minutes? I have some business I need to attend to, and then we’ll join you. Tell Felix to just begin with taking Feilong’s measurements. I won’t be long,” says Asami smoothly, as if there’s nothing at all strange about the request. Apparently there’s not, because the worker smiles and tells Asami he can use the manager’s office as before, then turns and bows to Feilong.

 

“If you’ll follow me this way, sir?” he asks graciously, indicating the direction with a sweep of his arm. Feilong doesn’t look fazed in the slightest, the snake. Akihito is beginning to think that he could bet his last coin that Asami hadn’t been anywhere near as surprised as he’d acted this morning, and it would not be a bet he’d lose. 

 

Asami doesn’t let go of Aki’s elbow, but guides him through the store, which is filled with astonishingly expensive menswear and accessories, all the way to a back where there is a door marked, “Employees Only.” Asami opens it without hesitation and ushers Akihito through as if he owns the place. It’s not impossible to think that he  _ does _ , except Aki doesn’t think so. This is just the treatment Asami gets in stores where he shops. His other self would say something about it. Today he keeps his mouth shut and allows his Master to guide him through that door, and down a hall to another one, marked “Konamura Hitoshi: Manager.” The lights in the office are off, as it’s nowhere near opening time yet. Asami flicks the switch up without looking, apparently knowing where it is. This calms the dancing nerves in Akihito’s stomach that had started up when Asami hadn’t sent him off with Feilong. Obviously Asami has used this office before when he needs to make a business call or use the computer for something while he’s waiting for a suit to be fitted or some crazy shit rich people do when they shop for clothes, about which Aki has no clue. And it must mean they’re just here for Feilong, and he’s being paranoid. Probably Feilong already had this appointment, and Asami is being thoughtful in letting him keep it before they really start their Day. 

 

His relief is short-lived.

 

“Pull down your pants and bend over the desk,” says Asami casually. Akihito goggles at him, eyes going wide. “If I have to repeat myself, I’ll drag you out to the fitting room to take care of this, and my personal shopper and his assistant can watch, along with Feilong.” 

 

Aki gulps, biting back the questions and demands that bubble up inside him. He doesn’t understand what’s happening, or why. Being a slave is confusing! He moves, his hands fumbling a little with the buttons on his jeans, pushing them down clumsily and stumbling a little when he moves to place his hands on the stranger’s desk. He can feel himself growing hard, and feels the same little thrill of excitement he always feels when Asami is going to spank him, but his mind is spinning. Is Asami doing this to keep him occupied while Feilong’s new suit is measured? Is this for fun, and because they had to hurry out of the house this morning? Is it one of those, “You belong to me and I feel like it” things, or is there a reason? He grinds his teeth together against the questions. He wants to do a good job for Asami today, but he hadn’t expected it to be so confusing so quickly. He gasps when he feels Asami’s hand on the upper curve of his ass.

 

“Akihito,” says that deep, rumbling voice. It is calm, almost gentle. He forces his jaw to relax, and tries to let go. No matter the reason, whether it’s messing with his head a little or not, this is Asami, who knows his limits and won’t do anything to him that he can’t take. But Asami doesn’t stop with just his name. Sardonic humor creeps into his voice. “Did you really think you could get away with insulting your Master in such a way?”

 

Oops, You’d think after all this time that Aki would learn that Asami has the hearing of a fucking owl, along with his other freakishly sharp senses, but he never seems to. 

 

“I...I’m sorry. Master,” he whispers. The confusion and tension evaporates, replaced by butterflies and gratitude. According to the game they’re playing today, Asami has no obligation to explain why he feels like “punishing” his slave, and yet he’s doing so, because he can see Aki’s confusion. The hand slides down to stroke over the curve of his bottom, and he shivers.

 

“You get a little slack because this is new to you, and I surprised you by bringing you here, but next time? Next time you’ll be punished much more severely than I’m going to punish you now. Where I choose to take you today and what I choose to do in those places is not up to you. Not today. Do you understand?”

 

Akihito’s thoughts that they might just be here for Feilong fly out the window. Oh, he’s been well and truly outfoxed. He sighs, and nods.

 

“Good boy. And just think. There’s not a store full of customers and employees right now, but I have no idea how well this office is shielded from the showroom floor. Or whether Daichi or Felix might be close by. They might hear us. Hear a naughty slave being punished for being so disrespectful to his Master.” 

 

Ohh. Aki hadn’t thought of that. He whimpers softly, and Asami chuckles. A blush heats Akihito’s face and ears. He frowns at the shiny surface of the desk and tells himself sternly that he’s  _ going  _  to stop thinking so hard, and  _ be _ who he wants to be for Asami today. Oh, he’s absurdly grateful. Asami is going out of his way to remove Aki’s confusion over why they’re here  _ and _ to take some of the bite out of his discipline by also turning it into something he knows excites his youngest lover, but Akihito doesn’t want Asami to have to smooth the way for him like that. He wants to give Asami his fantasy, not turn it into yet another occasion when Asami makes sure  _ Aki  _ gets what he wants.

 

“It…” He swallows past the lump in his throat. “It doesn’t matter if they hear,” he whispers. “I...I  _ was _ surprised when we stopped here, and….and maybe I didn’t expect this, and maybe it wouldn’t have been my choice, but that isn’t my call to make. It...I was. Disrespectful. I’m sorry. Please correct me, Sir.” He isn’t sure, because the sound is very faint, but he  _ thinks _ he hears Asami take a sharp breath of surprise at his response. He waits, trembling with nerves and anticipation and the forbidden thrill of wondering if the others will hear. Asami hadn’t brought the duffle bag in with him, so Aki’s ears strain for the sound of him removing his belt.

 

But Asami spanks him with his hand. Which he knows perfectly well Akihito likes more than any implement in their extensive collection. It’s not a very long spanking. He’s panting and terribly aroused, whining softly and lifting his hips into the quick, stinging blows Asami rains down on his naked backside, when it’s over just minutes after it begins. Asami gently pulls his pants back up and helps him stand up straight. Confused hazel eyes look up into sparkling amber when Asami leans down to kiss him.

 

“Thank you, Akihito,” murmurs his lover. His Master. “That was...very well-said. If you continue to be that good for the rest of our time here, I’ll give you a reward I know you’ll like.” Asami’s genuine smile is too good to resist, even though a part of Akihito still sort of wants to be annoyed by how he’s been fooled into being here in the first place. 

 

“Yes, Master,” he says softly, and lets himself be led out of the office and back into the upscale boutique.

 

Feilong and a lean, attractive blond-haired man are standing on a small, raised platform that is surrounded by mirrors. They’re talking to one-another quietly as the man makes his way around Feilong with a long tape measure, a pencil behind his ear and a tiny notepad in his hand. He stops what he’s doing when Asami and Akihito approach, turning to them with a wide smile. He says something in a language Aki doesn’t understand and, tucking the pad and tape measure in his pockets, rushes to Asami with his arms spread wide. Asami smiles, and the two men embrace. Felix kisses the air next to each of Asami’s cheeks, then pulls back and shakes his hand enthusiastically.

 

“Let’s stick mostly to Japanese today, Felix,” says Asami,, once their greeting is concluded. “Akihito doesn’t speak any French, and Feilong’s is a little rusty.”

 

“But of course,” replies the blond man, switching easily to Japanese. He speaks it fluently, even if his accent is a little strange to Aki. He’s never met a Frenchman before, and sort of wishes he did speak the language. It had sounded pretty. Asami introduces Akihito, and Felix embraces him as well, kissing near each of his cheeks before pulling back and eyeing him up and down with intent, bright blue eyes. “We are shopping for both of them today, yes?”

 

“Yes,” says Asami coolly. He glances down at Aki and smirks, cocking an eyebrow as if daring him to protest. Feilong grins unrepentantly. Akihito just barely manages not to glare at him. Oh well. He sighs very softly and sags a little in defeat. “They’re going to need new suits, evening wear for a semi-formal event, club-wear appropriate for some of my more upscale locations, undergarments, several ties, socks, matching shoes for everything, and appropriate accessories.” 

 

Akihito tries not to clench his fists. He kind of wants to murder Feilong in his sleep (which is the only way he’d ever manage to pull it off anyway, and maybe not even then), because there’s just now way in hell Asami had managed to arrange an appointment like this just while he’d been waiting for them to clean up and get dressed this morning. Akihito may not know very much about stores like this, but he’s pretty damn sure you have to make appointments for fittings like this in advance, let alone arrange for them to be had outside a store’s operating hours. He wonders if Feilong had even waited 24 hours after agreeing to keep this a secret before telling Asami all about it. He wants to be furious. 

 

But he can’t. Asami is  _ smiling. _ Not smirking, not grinning like some kind of big bad wolf that’s about to eat him. Smiling. Like he almost never does except when he’s too happy to cover it up. He’s smiling because he’s buying clothes for him. For Akihito. He’s not dumb. This has nothing to do with Feilong, who’s never tried to stop Asami from spending money on him. He’s fought so long and hard  _ not _ to let Asami “buy” him or treat him like he’s some kind of kept boy. He’s never even stopped to think that there may be reasons other than influence and control that would make Asami want to buy him stuff. Or that Asami keeps offering to buy him clothes only because he’s too embarrassed to be seen in public with Akihito looking like street trash. Except when he really thinks about it, Asami has never even blinked at walking into anywhere they’ve ever gone with Aki no matter what he’s wearing. Could he have been that wrong? 

 

He’s so preoccupied with his thoughts that he doesn’t even think of protesting when the outrageously flamboyant Felix takes his measurements (some of which are kind of...intimate) and writes them down in his little notebook. He doesn’t roll his eyes or complain when first a suit jacket and then a really fancy evening coat are slid up his arms and over his shoulders, then marked with some kind of pale chalk marker kind of thing before being taken away. He doesn’t even resist when Felix and the other employee guy approach with huge arms full of shirts and pants and stuff and usher him into some really fancy fitting rooms with instructions to try them on. 

 

For a long time he stands there, staring unseeingly at himself in the mirror. He doesn’t want the clothes. He doesn’t want Asami’s money. He’s never wanted it. But for the first time he’s wondering if  _ he’s _ the one who’s been selfish and high-handed about it, not Asami, in refusing to adamantly to accept anything Asami has tried to give him….unless it’s been food or a gift-giving sort of holiday when refusing would be impossible. He doesn’t even hear the door to the fitting room open behind him, and flinches when his lover’s hands close around his hips and a deep voice purrs in his ear.

 

“I came to see if you needed any help in here. You haven’t even tried on a single thing. Am I going to have to take you back into that office again?”

 

“Wh...oh. I...Asa...I mean, Master? Can I….can I ask you a question?” he asks, fumbling over the words. Asami looks at him in the mirror. A tiny frown-line of concern appears between his brows.

 

“Go ahead.”

 

“I’m….well, I’m  _ not _ going to fight you about this. That isn’t why. But...will you tell me why you want to do this?” asks Akihito haltingly. Asami’s mouth quirks up at one corner, but he almost looks a little sad.

 

“This is probably the only chance I’ll ever have to throw money at you and not have it thrown back in my face,” he says quietly. “You’ve made it so clear you refuse to be like anyone in the past who’s only been interested in my money, but you never thought to ask a rather important question. Which is how many of them did I ever buy anything for that was more tangible than dinner or tickets to an event or show.”

 

“....How many?” whispers Aki.

 

“None,” says Asami, looking him straight in the eye in the mirror.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami takes Akihito and Feilong clothes shopping. Aki's eyes are opened even further. Possibly a few scandalous things happen in very fancy dressing rooms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is moving along a lot slower than I had originally intended. Not in terms of rate of posting so much, though I have been faster in the past, but just because of the amount of detail the boys insist that I include. I have a feeling this is going to be a very long day with rather a lot of chapters, because I have a lot of ideas. I may not be able to include all of them, but I want to get in as many as I can. My blog deserves a real celebration, I think. Askasamifeiandaki has been possibly the most rewarding undertaking of my life. I've touched and been touched by so many lives, made so many good friends, and been so overwhelmed by the kindness, generosity, and acceptance of my followers. For a Day is dedicated to all of you. I cannot express how much I love you guys. These chapters will be a celebration of love, giving, joyful and healthy kink, fun and humor...all the things our kinky family stands for. There's a lot more to come, even if we haven't managed to get out of the first store yet.
> 
> All the designers, brands, labels and prices in this series are real according to my research.
> 
> Also, because this story is for you, if there's anything you'd really like to see included in For a Day, leave your suggestions here as a comment or message me on my tumblr. 
> 
> You can find out everything about me at charis2770.tumblr.com, which is a sort of clearinghouse page about me which has links to all my blogs, pages, and works.

Akihito stares at Asami in the mirror with his mouth hanging open.  _ None? _ He thinks in utter shock.  _ NONE? _ It boggles his mind to think that Asami had never showered any past lovers in gifts and fancy vacations and cars and extravagant clothes and jewels. And yet, he believes his lover. Asami has no reason to lie about this. He’s worked to hard to get Aki to trust him. He wouldn’t blow that on a day of shopping. It means that his motivation for wanting to lavish Aki with gifts comes from a place entirely different from what Akihito had thought. He looks down, clasping his hands together. Asami’s fingers flex gently on his hips. 

 

“Why?” he whispers. Asami gives him a lopsided grin and a self-deprecating shrug.

 

“You not wanting my money makes me want to give you everything,” he says. 

 

“But...but I don’t need those things.”

 

“I know. And it only makes me want to show you more how amazing you are. Today, I get to do that.”

 

“They’re….just gifts. That’s really all they are. You don’t want anything in return.” Akihito’s voice is soft, filled with wonder.

 

“That’s what a gift ought to be, I think.”

 

“Okay. I...thank you for answering my questions,” says Aki softly. “I’ll try these on.”

 

“What a good little slave,” says Asami in the low voice that Akihito can feel through his whole body.

 

“You don’t need to stay….Master. That way I can show you the outfits once they’re on. For a better effect, right?” asks Aki a bit tentatively.

 

“Very well. But strip first. I have a present for you.”

 

Akihito doesn’t know why it makes him blush. He’s certainly been naked in front of this man more times than he could possibly count. Probably it’s the difference in the circumstances, the way Asami is looking at him, and the fact that they’re in a public dressing room with other people;strangers, just outside. It adds to the thrill too, and he’s more than half hard by the time he finishes taking off his clothes.

 

Asami pushes him gently forward with a hand to the middle of his back. He has to put his hands against one of the many mirrors to keep from toppling forward. He stifles a yelp when cold, slippery fingers work between his cheeks to probe at his asshole, sinking in easily. Asami slicks him up quickly, but then adds a slow curl with his deft fingertips as he pulls them out to rub over Aki’s sweet spot. The photographer is unable to stifle a moan as the pleasure ignites a warm heat in his belly. Asami chuckles. Then something smooth and hard presses against him, pushing slowly inside. Akihito recognizes it. His mouth opens on a protest, but he remembers just in the nick of time that slaves don’t have the right to complain, so the plug slides into him easily as he presses his lips together, his body betraying him with a shudder. Asami leans forward and nips him softly on the shoulder.

 

“I’ll make you feel good with this when you behave, and torture you with it when you don’t….or when I happen to feel like it,” says Asami with a smirk. Aki ducks his head, panting a little.

 

“...yes Master,” he whispers. It’s getting easier, sinking into his role. Giving Asami complete control. Not because it’s something he’s fantasized about, or because he wants on some subconscious level, but because he can’t ever remember seeing a look of such pure happiness on his lover’s face. Asami carries the weight of his empire on his shoulders all the time. Aki can’t ever remember a time when at least some small hint of it wasn’t there. Tension in those broad shoulder muscles, the tiny frown of a headache between those sculpted brows, constant hyperawareness. Today, Asami almost reminds him of a little kid on Christmas morning. 

 

“My good boy,” murmurs Asami, turning the bite into a kiss. “Now, after you’ve modeled your new clothes for me, if you do a good job, I’ll let you come before we head off to our next location. Take your time putting on the first outfit. I have to go give Feilong his present too.”

 

Akihito can’t help a small giggle when he thinks of the always elegant and composed Liu Feilong being made to wear a remote controlled anal plug under his fancy clothes all day. He wonders if his other lover will manage to remain so composed with the diabolic little toy surprising him on and off whenever he least expects it.

 

****

 

“How is he doing?” Feilong turns to face Asami when the older man steps into his own dressing room, where he’s already wearing one of the chosen ensembles, turning this way and that to admire himself in the mirror. The red silk shirt with its banded collar, black fitted vest and vicuna wool slacks by Hugo Boss look very striking on him. Asami smiles.

 

“Better than I would have ever imagined. I don’t know what you said to him to get him to be able to go along with this so well, but you deserve acres of silk as a reward.”

 

Feilong sighs as he thinks of all the pretty silk.

 

“It wasn’t me. This was his idea. Honestly. I just helped him figure out the right headspace, which he really already knew anyway. As much as I’d like to, I honestly can’t take the credit.”

 

Asami’s eyebrows lift as he reaches into his pocket, but Feilong assures him it’s quite true. And that just makes this day even better.

 

“You look stunning in that. Wear it tonight. Now take it off. I have something for you, before you try on the next one.”

 

“Of course, Master,” purrs Feilong, looking coyly over his shoulder as he slides out of the expensive clothing with consummate grace. Then, just because he’s acting a little too sure of himself, Asami slams him up against the mirror, setting sharp white teeth to the join of neck and shoulder and grinding a nice bruise into perfect porcelain flesh. Feilong groans softly through closed lips, then gasps when his lover jams two wet fingers roughly up his ass, rutting back against the intrusion.

 

“Dirty slut,” growls Asami, removing his teeth from the smaller man’s flesh.

 

“Oh-only for you, Master,” says Feilong breathlessly. It is, after all, an easy role for him to play. This is the man who handed him all his dark and secret fantasies on a shiny silver platter. Putting himself at Asami’s feet is nothing compared to what he’s gotten in return.

 

The plug forces itself inside him, spreading him wide before his body closes around it. Feilong’s is bigger than Akihito’s, though it’s not the punishment it would be for some people. Feilong relishes the slight burn, the sense of fullness. A soft whine vibrates in his throat when Asami reaches back in his pocket and thumbs the remote for a few seconds. Asami slaps him hard on the ass a few times, which is not nearly enough.

 

“I promised Akihito I’d let him come if he tries on the rest of his outfits like a good boy. I’ll turn on yours too, for as long as it takes him to climax. If you can come in that amount of time, good for you. If you can’t, you’ll just have to wait until I feel like you’ve earned it,” says Asami ruthlessly, grinning at him in the mirror. “It’s time for you to start taking this seriously, slave.” And he turns and leaves the dressing room. Feilong leans down with shaking fingers to pick up the next article of clothing, taking a slow, deep breath to steady the rapid thundering of his heart.

 

****

 

Akihito looks at himself in the mirror. He hardly recognizes himself. The only thing that’s familiar is the weight and pressure of the plug in his ass. The green shirt, perfectly fitted black vest, and soft, plus slacks on his legs feel totally alien. He looks like millions of yen. Even he has to admit that he looks great. He doesn’t look like himself, but he looks  _ good. _ The tinted glasses through which he’s looked at the imaginary clothes he’s imagined Asami buying for him over all this time have been stripped away by their earlier conversation. This isn’t something Asami wants to turn him into, to change him. This is….this….it’s love. He remembers a book his mom had been all crazy about a few years ago. Something about love languages. How different people had different ways of expressing their affections for other people. Acts of service….doing stuff for people. Like cooking them nice meals, or doing their laundry. Which he’s been doing for Asami for a long time, and which Asami has accepted with appreciation. Spending time. Physical affection. And giving gifts. Gifts. And he’s been rejecting Asami’s love language all along. Guilt is a sour feeling in his stomach. He takes a deep breath, paints a smile on his face, and opens the door to the dressing room. 

 

Asami is sitting in a chair in the staging area outside the dressing rooms. Aki steps out, his legs trembling a little. Felix, the shop attendant, tailor, and Asami’s personal shopper, claps his hands together and exclaims over how handsome Aki looks. Akihito blushes, but he nods his head politely in recognition, walks a little closer to Asami, and turns slowly in a circle.

 

“Does...it meet with your approval, Sir?” he asks stumblingly. The approval in his lover’s eyes is all the answer he needs.

 

“The color is perfect for him, Felix. Thank you. Black boots with it, do you think, or oxfords?”

 

“Oh, ankle boots I think, considering his age,” says Felix happily. He claps his hands and the other worker, Daichi, is at his side in an instant. “Several pairs of black ankle boots, if you please. In size….?”

 

“27,” supplies Asami instantly, which would surprise Akihito except that it’s not the first time Asami has bought shoes for him. He flushes a little in embarrassment when Felix’s eyebrows go up and the tidy little European looks him up and down in surprise. Aki has always been a little self-conscious about his big feet in comparison to the rest of him, but it’s not like he  _ chose _ them, he’s just made that way. Besides, it makes it easier to keep his balance when he has to run away from some asshole politician’s bodyguards on an assignment. He lifts his chin and looks the man straight in the eye, which causes Felix to blush in return and stammer out an apology. Oh. Akihito cringes a little and glances at Asami out of the corners of his eyes. That’s probably not the way a slave’s supposed to act, is it? But Asami is looking at him with one corner of his mouth curled up in amusement, so he sighs and relaxes.

 

He goes through the same process with all the other clothes Asami has selected for him, Feilong joining him from time to time whenever their changes manage to coincide. Feilong looks much the same as always, the fancy clothes not very different from ones he already owns, except that Akihito notices Asami has chosen outfits for them that complement each other so that it’s very apparent that they go together. His first instinct is to be embarrassed by this, but he takes a mental step back. He’s learning to see a lot of things differently today. Recalling Feilong’s advice, he considers how his younger self would feel about getting to wear matching outfits with his handsome, smart, sexy big brother. Younger Aki would be over the moon to get to look as cool as Fei. Especially if Uncle Ryu were to take them shopping in such a fancy store. That makes it easy. Besides, he rationalizes, it’s not like they’ll have to wear the outfits at the same time when they’re not roleplaying, so no one will think anything’s strange about it at all. And he  _ will _ wear them again, though he figures Asami probably won’t expect it, to show his appreciation, and that he recognizes what they mean. Besides, he’s not going to get turned away at the door at celebrity events anymore with this new wardrobe, accused of forging his press pass. Hell, he’ll probably be shown to the VIP section. A vindictive little smile crosses his face as he slides his legs into a pair of dark chocolate brown pants that feel like heaven on his skin. Mitairai is going to be green with envy when he gets a load of Aki in these new threads. The pants fit a lot like the skinny jeans Akihito favors, but they’re soft and perfectly tailored and they move with him like a second skin. He takes a second to glance at the label and his eyebrows shoot up. The designer name on the label is someone he’s never even heard of, a company or a person called Aiezen, and the price tag reads almost 26,000 yen. For a pair of  _ casual _ pants. Some of the other stuff he’s tried on, like the black suit and evening wear he’d been fitted for hadn’t even had price tags. A big part of him wants to feel embarrassed and guilty and offended, but he sets his jaw and recalls the look on Asami’s face, and his words. He shoves the feelings down. As he leans over to pick up the soft, creamy brownish-golden colored shirt that goes with the pants and brings out the warm tones in his hazel eyes, the plug in his ass buzzes to life for a few seconds. He bites back a yelp and hurries into the rest of the outfit at Asami’s reminder that he’s taking too long. 

 

The smirk on his “Master’s” face when he stumbles out of the dressing room brings a flush to his face. He bows slightly.

 

“I...I’m sorry, Sir, I had a little trouble with the pants,” he says breathlessly.

 

“Do they not fit?” asks Asami keenly. Aki looks at his feet.

 

“N-no, they do. It’s just….it’s so much. I don’t….I feel like I haven’t done anything to earn them,” whispers Akihito, biting his lip. He’s staring so hard at his feet that he doesn’t see Asami get up from his chair and has to stifle a small squeak of alarm when a warm hand cups his chin and forces his head up.

 

“Gifts aren’t earned, Akihito,” says Asami softly in his ear. “You’ll please me by accepting them.” 

 

Consternation robs the photographer of speech as Feilong glides out to join them, in identical pants of a dark charcoal hue and a matching royal blue shirt. Asami requests double monk strap shoes in brown and black for each of them, whatever those are.

 

The fashion show continues, and at its end, Akihito and Feilong try on several different pairs of shoes, wherein Aki learns more about shoes than he’s ever known in his life and mourns just a little that his faithful old battered pair of trainers are never going to feel the same again. He’d always assumed that fancy shoes had to be uncomfortable, assuming that his one pair of nice shoes were the exception, but everything he tries on feels amazing, from the dress boots to the cap toe derbys to the double monk straps (which he learns are shoes with wide, buckled straps across the tops that actually look pretty cool). Then there are several different belts, half a dozen ties, cufflinks (Akihito’s have green jade set in them while Feilong’s have a red stone that looks like garnet, both pairs of which are shiny silver although Aki wouldn’t be surprised if they were actually platinum). There are handkerchiefs and socks so soft they have to be cashmere, except for the ones that go with the evening suits that may actually be real silk, two different kinds of watches, packages of boxer briefs just like the ones Asami wears, whisper soft undershirts, and finally, pairs of sunglasses that match the ones Asami and his men wear. The tag dangling from the side of them says Bulgari. Akihito decides not to even try to read the price tag. His head is spinning. He wanders back into the dressing room in a daze when Asami says he can, not even noticing that he’s followed. As his fingers reach clumsily to pull the shirt he’s wearing out of the waistband of his pants, larger hands cover them. He gasps and goes stiff. Asami’s lips brush the side of his throat, then slide up to nibble on the shell of his ear. He shivers. Asami turns him gently to face the bigger man. There’s an odd look on Asami’s face, and Akihito looks up at him uncertainly, worried that he’s messed this up somehow.

 

“This was hard for you,” says Asami. That’s when Akihito recognizes the look. Asami looks worried, a little. Aki shakes his head.

 

“It was at first. Because I don’t need you to buy me things, and I’ve always said no when you tried. But I saw your face when I was trying this stuff on, and you looked...happy. And I remembered a book my mom was into a few years ago, and that helped. I always thought you wanted to buy me stuff to….to show off, or to make me feel like I owed you, or belonged to you. I was wrong. You don’t buy things for people for those kinds of reasons. You wouldn’t waste your time on someone you’d need to do that for.”

 

“No,” agrees Asami. “Not unless it was for business, and that would be an entirely different context, and entirely different sorts of purchases.”

 

“I...I think I figured out what these mean,: says Aki, gesturing down at his current outfit. Asami raises an eyebrow.

 

“Did you then?”

 

“Yeah. And….and….Master?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I...I love you too.”

 

Asami’s mouth covers Akihito’s to swallow his cry when the plug inside him buzzes to life, vibrating in  _ just _ the right place. Deft hands unfasten his expensive pants and reach inside his underwear, warm fingers wrapping around his rapidly hardening cock. Akihito whimpers into Asami’s kiss, writhing in his Master’s arms. Dimly, he thinks he hears a choked cry from the neighboring dressing room, but he hasn’t any real attention to spare for it. Asami breaks the kiss and covers Akihito’s mouth with his hand, blazing golden eyes staring straight into his own as his Master skillfully works him closer and closer to the edge. Aki trembles helplessly in his grasp.

 

“Come for me,: whispers Asami in his ear, and like a good slave, Akihito obeys.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interesting things happen in the limo after they leave the store

While Asami pays for his purchases and makes arrangements to return for their altered, perfectly fitted suits, and Akihito and Feilong await him in their complementing shirt and vest ensembles, Aki can’t help but notice that Feilong looks more than a little flustered. Perhaps frustrated, even. 

 

“Sorry,” he whispers out of the corner of his mouth, “I guess I was too fast for you to have time to...well…” Feilong slants him a wry smile.

 

“Don’t blame yourself. I’m afraid it takes more than a battery powered bit of plastic to get me off, no matter how much time I’m given.” His eyes turn in Asami’s direction. “I don’t know what it is, the spell he weaves, but he can do more with a word, a simple touch, than all the toys in the world.”

 

“Yes you do,” says Akihito softly. “You can do it to. You do it to me all the time.”

 

“Kind of you to say so,” says Feilong with a small, half smile this time. “But you know it’s different.”

 

“Sure it is. You’re different people. But you’re so beautiful, FeiFei, and you always make me feel so good, and nothing would be the same without you.”

 

“You’re not so bad with knowing just the right thing to say yourself. Now hush, our Master returns. Put on your best obedient face like a good boy and let’s see what he has in store for us next.” At his lover’s instructions, Aki straightens up and stands right next to Feilong, mimicking his stance and posture as best he can so that they look like a matched pair the same way Suoh and Kirishima always do despite the fact that they look nothing alike physically. He must manage to pull it off at least a little, because Asami looks rather pleased as he walks towards them, the young store worker following close behind with his arms laden with an immense stack of boxes, bags draped over his arms, and all of it so numerous that the poor guy can barely see over the top. Akihito refuses to let himself feel uncomfortable, or to wonder what Asami’s going to want in return. They’re only gifts, true gifts, and he can’t deny that he and Feilong look pretty damn good in their matching boots, slacks, fitted vests and matching banded-collar shirts in the red and green that look so good on each of them. If it weren’t for the fact that Feilong looks far too pretty and he looks way too scrawny, he’d almost say they look very much like a matched pair of Asami’s bodyguards, except of course those guys always wear plain black suits, not stylish get ups like these. 

 

“Very nice. Now you look just as appealing to everyone else who’ll see you as you always do to me,’ says Asami casually, as if he drops mind-wiping bombs like these all the time. “Let’s get going shall we? There are several stops still to make before our lunch appointments with a friend of mine.”

 

So they follow him obediently to the car, Aki marveling with every step how great the boots feel on his feet even though they’re brand new and he  _ should _ need to break them in before being able to wear them all day without getting blisters. He’s pretty sure he’s not going to end up with any of those. Well, on his feet anyway,

 

The shop attendant loads their purchases in the car and Asami hands him two stacks of cash; one for him and one for Felix, their dresser, that almost make Akihito’s jaw drop, before joining them in the car. Suoh closes the door, then goes around and gets in himself, starting the engine and pulling out into the late-morning traffic just a few minutes before the store is to open. Still a bit hazy from his earlier spanking and recent orgasm, Aki is a little bit slow to pay too much attention to Asami’s conversation with Feilong. When he realizes Asami is asking whether his other “slave” had reached orgasm in the dressing room or not, he blushes. Poor Feilong. But their Master’s next words shock and thrill him in equal measure.

 

“Perhaps then, you’ve learned to take this more seriously?” he asks. Feilong has the grace to look abashed. Even Aki has to admit that Fei has been acting a little smug and pleased with himself all day.

 

“Yes Sir,” says Feilong softly.

 

“Good. Now fuck him.”

 

Akihito blinks at both of them in shock. Feilong, however, gives a small bow of his head in recognition.

 

“Do you have anything in particular in mind, Master?” he asks.politely. Aki’s mouth opens and closes soundlessly. It’s not that he has anything against the idea in particular, it’s just so shocking for Asami to be so casual and offhanded about it..

 

“Hm. Yes, on the facing seat, I believe. Put on a good show for me. I wish to see my slaves in action with each other. You can be a bit rough with him, but no more than he likes. He was a good boy in the store, so if I see any tears in his eyes aside from those of pleasure, I’ll make you wear that plug the entire day on its highest setting and not touch you except to punish you,” says Asami in a casual, musing tone.

 

Akihito’s cheeks are bright pink when he lets Feilong tug him over into the facing bench seat. This isn’t something they’ve done often, if at all. At least he can’t think of a time when the two of them have done something like this while the other just watched without being involved in some way. 

 

“Strip him,” orders Asami offhandedly, picking up his phone to check emails, not even looking at them as they prepare to follow his orders. Feilong carefully removes his new clothing, folding it all neatly and setting it aside so that nothing will be soiled.. “Good,” says Asami carelessly, tossing Feilong the small container of lube he’d had in his pocket all along. “Akihito, get on your hands an knees. Feilong, remove his plug and set it on one of the napkins from the bar service. I haven’t decided yet whether he’ll be having it back in after I’ve decided you’re finished yet or not.”

 

Aki gasps as Feilong works the plug loose carefully, following Asami’s instructions to the letter. His asshole feels open and empty, trying to clamp down on nothing. It always feel kind of weird. He lays his flushed face down on his hands, blushing at the feeling of exposure. He’s getting hard again, even though he’d come not much more than 15 minutes ago. Cool, slender fingers add more lube to his hole, sliding into him.

 

“Don’t stretch him,” says Asami abruptly, just as Akihito feels Feilong’s fingers flex to begin scissoring him open. He bites his lip and moans softly. “Removing the toy will have opened him enough so that you won’t hurt him more than he likes. And you like the burn, don’t you, little boy? Answer me.” His voice goes sharp at the end when Aki just keeps his face hidden, ears burning hot.

 

“Ye...yes...Sir,” whispers Akihito. It’s not that they don’t all know it perfectly well. Aki loves rough sex like air. He’s always been able to handle more pain during sex even than during any kind of spanking, without having to be eased into it. He’d struggled with it for a long time, wondering what the fuck was wrong with him to like something like that, but those days are in the past. It’s not that he’s embarrassed to admit it, it’s just that he feels so exposed, with Asami sitting there just  _ watching _ them. His voice sounds so casual, like it’s not affecting him at all. 

 

“Look at me,” orders Asami softly. Slowly, Aki turns his head to the side, and his breath catches in his throat. Okay. Wow, he’d been wrong. Like, really,  _ really _ wrong. Asami’s voice sounds perfectly calm, but his eyes are anything but. The heat in them feels like it could scorch his skin from across the passenger cab. “Don’t look away. Go on, Feilong.”

 

Akihito hears the sound of a zipper, the rustle of clothing being moved out of the way. Then Feilong’s hand is on his hip, the head of his cock, slick with lube, presses against his entrance. Feilong pushes in slow. Slow but steady, forcing him open wider than the plug, burning just a little. He moans helplessly, Asami’s eyes pinning him in place like a predator’s staring down something small and helpless that it’s about to devour. Oh, he feels hot all over. Feilong’s fingers dig into his hips, pulling him back to meet the next thrust. Their hips smack together. The sound is loud in the bulletproof, soundproofed cab of the limo. He hears Feilong’s breath hiss through his teeth. The older man pauses, adjusts his knees, tilting Akihito’s hips a bit, just the right amount so that his rough thrusts will rub Aki the right way. Aki cries out at the sensation of it, hears Feilong gasp, and in the brief pause between one thrust and the next, he understands it when he hears the very faint electronic buzz of the plug Feilong’s still wearing which Asami has apparently activated again. 

 

Asami’s mouth quirks up at one corner for just a moment, then his face smooths back into impassivity while his eyes continue to burn into Akihito like live coals. It’s a struggle to keep his eyes open instead of squeezing them shut against the pleasurepain of Feilong’s rough fucking. He bites his lips against the cries that want to escape.

 

“Don’t,” snaps Asami. “Don’t hide anything from me. All of you belongs to me today.”

 

Aki blinks. Asami’s voice remains mostly impassive, but they’ve known each other long enough now that even though Asami is still the master of seeing straight through both of them, even sometimes into places Akihito would rather he not see, he’s learned a little bit too, and he hears the tiny hint of wistfulness in that beautiful, rich voice. Can it really be that after all this time, Asami doesn’t know? 

 

“It….ngh...always does,” he whispers, breathless from the pleasure coiling in his gut. “A..ah! Asami. It always will. Hn. Oh, Feilong.  _ Harder. _ ”

 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” mutters Feilong, and Akihito knows that Asami’s order is only part of it. For one thing, Feilong has always been gentler with him during sex from the beginning of the relationship than Asami is, with the exception of a few times when they’d really gotten into it, but it’s more than that. He’s been a little….hesitant….since the time Aki had used his safeword during their roleplay and it had sent Feilong off the deep end. 

 

“Give him what he wants, Feilong,” growls Asami. “Good boys deserve to be rewarded, don’t you think? Besides, that toy and his tight ass? You’re already wound so tight. You’re going to come soon, and if you don’t get him off first….oh, and you’re not allowed to touch his pretty cock, either….I’m not going to turn it off after you come.”

 

Feilong, bless his masochistic soul, groans helplessly at the threat. He  _ hates _ being overstimulated, but Asami’s voice is a force of nature and he’s awfully damned good at making threats that twist them both up inside like wires about to snap. Fei hesitates for a brief moment, then his hips snap forward brutally, grinding over Aki’s sweet spot and slamming against his ass so hard it almost feels like the bones of his pelvis will leave bruises. Akihito hopes they do. He cries out, lashes fluttering, but he manages to keep his eyes on Asami’s. His mouth falls open. He’s always been so embarrassed by the sounds they can drag from him, felt like they make him sound like a  _ girl _ , but he does know it’s only him. That they both love the sounds he makes. He swallows his own personal hangups and gives Asami what he wants. 

 

Within seconds he’s moaning and yelling and practically sobbing while Feilong fucks him silly and Asami’s eyes blaze straight through him so hot it’s almost like a physical sensation. Gods, he’s close, but he can tell that Feilong is closer. He shoves his hips back to meet each vicious snap of Feilong’s hips, chasing his pleasure, partly because he  _ wants _ , but also partly because he doesn’t want Feilong to suffer and he knows his lover’s trying not to come but Asami is ruthless and likely has the vibrations turned up to max and there’s really only so much most people can take. He knows better than to try to touch himself. If Feilong’s not allowed to lend a hand, he’s sure Asami won’t let him either. His cries grow more frantic as he feels Feilong’s rhythm falter a little, hears his breath harsh in his chest, feels the tremor in the hands gripping his hips. Then, in a moment of clarity (well, sort of), he knows what he needs.

 

“Asami,  _ please, _ ” he cries. Those beautifully sculpted lips curve into a smile.

 

“Come for me,” purrs Asami, and it’s so, so easy to obey him. Akihito howls as his hole clamps down on Feilong, as his cock pulses and pleasure flares hot through his veins. Feilong gasps and moans through his teeth and Aki can feel the cock inside him twitching and the warm rush of Feilong’s release. He sighs in relief, body slumping so that it’s only the strength of Feilong’s grip on his hips holding him up (not that it’s any kind of effort for Feilong). He blinks a little sleepily, feeling languorous and a little worn out from two orgasms so close together. Neither of them move, waiting for Asami to tell them what to do. Feilong lets out a small pained sound, then a long sigh as the sound of the vibrations inside him abruptly cease. 

 

“Stay like that just a minute,” Asami tells them, which is okay with Akihito because he doesn’t really feel like moving anyway. Asami opens one of the many little compartments in the limo and takes out a first aid kit, using one of the antiseptic wipes to clean the plug Feilong had removed from Akihito’s ass before fucking him. Aki swallows a bit nervously. Part of him wants to protest, but he doesn’t. He just waits. Watches as Asami coats it with fresh lubricant and then slides as graceful as a cat across the compartment to sit on the seat behind Feilong, pushing him gently out of the way after turning his head to kiss him roughly. 

 

“Well done,” he says softly. Aki can’t see very well what’s going on, but assumes from what he can hear that Feilong’s cleaning himself up and putting his clothes back to rights. He whines softly when he feels Asami’s fingers at his hole, playing with him a little before gently pressing the tip of the plug to him. “Hush,” he says quietly. “I’m not going to turn it on. We wouldn’t want you making a mess inside your nice new clothes. Besides, just think. I’m going to plug Feilong’s come up inside you so that when I’m ready to fuck you later, you’ll have both of us inside you and it will be filthy and you’ll love it. You’ll love how dirty it is underneath the gloss, because the truth is, Akihito, I’m just as dirty.”

 

Aki groans when the plug pushes slowly inside him, sliding home easily, because of course Asami is right. He’s helped back into his clothes, put back together so that on the outside no one will be able to tell that he’s just had his brains fucked out on the leather seat of a fancy limo. Asami hands him another antiseptic wipe and he cleans the evidence of it off the seat, blushing a little but not really caring all that much. He realizes after his brain has cleared a little that the limo has come to a stop and is just idling somewhere. He glances out the window and his eyes widen when he sees that they’re parked outside his favorite camera shop. More often than he goes inside, he window shops here, and he’s never told Asami about this particular store. Of course, Asami knowing things doesn’t surprise him as much as it used to. He looks up at his Master with questions in his eyes.

 

“Do you have a list of the things you’d need to pursue your art more effectively? Not your work. I mean the kinds of pictures you  _ want _ to take. The….hm. The lenses, filters, software, that kind of thing?”

 

“I...I  _ do _ , but…”

 

“Be very careful when choosing the next words that come out of your mouth,” says Asami coolly. “I don’t know all of your reasons for not pursuing your art as hard as you pursue your work. I  _ do _ know that you’re good. You’re very good, and you deserve better than hiding in bushes and publishing surveillance photos under a pseudonym to protect your identity from vengeful dirty politicians. I don’t hang art in my home that isn’t worthy of being there. I’ve even had people ask me about the artist, and I’ve kept my mouth shut because, for whatever absurd reason, you haven’t seemed ready to accept the recognition that art deserves. If it’s insecurity, that’s one thing, but if it’s because you’ve been waiting until you could have the equipment to make that art into what  _ you  _ think it needs to be before you’re ready, then that’s something I can understand. Do you. Have a list?”

 

Akihito swallows.

 

“Yes Master.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami takes Akihito shopping some more, at his favorite camera shop. It is harder than Aki had anticipated. Until it isn't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'm still recovering from surgery. Physical therapy is rough, and opened up a few other issues with my body, but that's not really surprising considering everything that's damaged. Still, all in all I'm making progress and that's what matters!
> 
> This chapter doesn't contain a lot of smut. It's both kind of an important introspective that I think has to happen here for the rest of what's to come, and just pure setup for the next part, but I hope you'll enjoy anyway! 
> 
> The next chapter will have smut, and a little angst as advanced warning for those who were worried about it, but I promise there'll be plenty of filth in the next chapter, plus yea violence too. C'mon guys. Don't touch the man's stuff.

Akihito is nearly positive his hands hadn’t been shaking this hard  _ any _ of the times he’d been held at gunpoint as they are when Asami holds open the door to the Fujiya Camera and ushers him inside. His mind is bouncing so quickly from one scattered thought to the next that he can’t even take his usual pause to wonder when or how in the hell his life became such a thing that he’s able to entertain such a thought and  _ mean _ it without freaking the fuck out. Because he’s too busy freaking the fuck out.

 

Sure, he’s daydreamed plenty of times about being able to walk into this place and buy all of the things he wants. Of finally having the kind of equipment to really produce the kinds of images he wants to without looking at them and knowing how much better they could be if he wasn’t limited to the couple of secondhand lenses he owns that are really just made for grabbing a decent close up from a distance. Hell, when he’d started his current job he’d only had the crappy zoom lens his faithful Pentax had come with!  _ Of course _ he’s been dreaming about a day like today when he can do more than look wistfully at tripods, light meters, editing suites, filters and lenses, but at the same time he’s  _ terrified _ . He knows perfectly well that it’s not really his adamant refusal to take Asami’s money that has prevented him from accepting this sort of gift from his lover. Once Asami sticks that Amex Black card into the reader and signs his name, Aki won’t have any excuses left. He’ll  _ have _ to put his pictures out there and find out if he’s really any good or not. It’s not that he thinks Asami and Feilong have been lying to him, not really. It’s just that...well, for one thing, they’re not actually artists or gallery owners or magazine editors, and for another...even if they say it’s not so, what if it  _ is _ and their appreciation for his talent is viewed through the rosy filter of their care for him as a person?

 

Having pictures of a small-time government official exiting a brothel rejected by a gossip rag just means there’s a bigger story that day, or that someone else managed to get a clearer or closer shot. Having art that you’ve poured a part of your soul into rejected? That means he’s not good enough, and he’s scared to find out that the small-time government officials are really all he’s good for. And now he’s gonna have to find out, because when he raises his head enough to glance up at Asami, it’s awfully clear from the unflinching look in those tiger eyes that he’s not getting out of this. The man looks fully prepared to buy out the store just to prevent Akihito from leaving a single thing off his list. Asami would do it, too. He takes a deep, shaky breath and steps over the threshold..

 

By the end of the first aisle Akihito is desperately glad the store has only been open for about an hour and currently hosts only one other customer, because he can’t help but feel mortified by the thought of what they must look like to strangers. Two taller, obviously older, breathtakingly attractive and blatantly wealthy men trailing behind him as he makes his way down said aisle, while another man approximately the size of a midsize sedan and who cannot be mistaken for anything  _ other _ than paid muscle lurks by the door almost certainly glowering at the entire store through his sunglasses (Suoh only waits in or at the car when they’re in a controlled setting, and since Fujiya Camera is a public place, it’s  _ not _ , despite its lack of significant patronage). The fact that he’s shopping in his favorite photography store where he spends enough time that all the employees know him by name  _ with a butt plug holding Feilong’s come in his ass _ doesn’t help. At all. 

 

Nor does it make him feel any less garishly outstanding when he hesitantly starts selecting things off the shelves as he goes (it’s not like he has to stop and compare products or read specifications, since he’d done that ages ago and long ago memorized every single thing in the store that he’d buy if he could) and one of the employees, a young woman a few years younger than him who is still working on her degree in photography, whose name is Haruka and who is eyeing up Asami and Feilong like they’re a 12-course banquet and she’s starving, notices that he’s doing more than window shopping this time and rushes over to offer her assistance. Ears burning, Aki stumbles over thanking her and reassuring her that he’s fine thanks. Asami, who’s watching him like a hawk, wordlessly relieves him of the light meter, mini tripod and boxes of collapsible reflector discs, handing them to Feilong and pays absolutely no attention to her at all. Akihito honestly can’t remember  _ ever _ seeing Asami be rude to someone who hasn’t absolutely earned it. He goggles at the older man as she bows stiffly and backs away, looking confused and affronted. Asami flicks a dismissive glance at her, then returns to watching Aki like a hawk.

 

“I’ll make sure she gets the commission,” he says offhandedly. “If you think I’m going to take my eyes off you and give you the opportunity to skip over picking out even a pack of spare batteries, you had better think again. I’ll be able to tell, and you won’t like what happens.” 

 

This has become his life now, that an offhanded threat about  _ batteries _ should have his belly clenching, the plug shifting insidiously in his ass so that it rubs in some interesting places. He stumbles a little as he moves to the next aisle and shakes his head to clear it, focusing on lenses and filters. His Pentax has a universal mount, so he skips over the proprietary Nikon and Canon lenses. As he reaches for one he’s been drooling over for years, he pauses, perfectly aware of Asami’s keen, sharp look. But it’s not hesitation that makes him pause. He understands the reason behind the gifts now. It’s only the ostentation of the spree shopping that embarrasses him a little. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then reaches out and snags the lens. It’s a wide-frame lens with an F-stop superior to any he’s ever used before. His stock zoom lens has an F-stop of 2.8, about as good at a decent stock lens can aspire to. This lens is for taking portraits and nature shots, with an F-stop more than a point lower than normal industry standard. He’ll be able to capture the motion of nature and busy city life in backgrounds while perfectly capturing brilliant, crisp images of his primary target. He hands it to Asami, though his hands itch to tear it out of the box and try it out right the fuck now. 

 

It’s not the reality of doing this that has him discomfited and awkward. When he’d decided to sign on for today, he’d done it wholeheartedly, the way he does everything. Otherwise he’d have said no. And sure, Asami has found a way to turn it around on Akihito so that there’s a lot more going on than he’d originally  _ thought _ there would be, but he’ll never forget the expression on his lover’s face in the men’s boutique as long as he lives, so no. It’s not that. It’s nerves for what it means for his future. That, and this is a public store, not an exclusive boutique closed to the public before it’s even open for the day. He doesn’t like the attention. It makes him feel like someone he’s not. And, truth be told, he looks the part like he never has in his life. Anyone can tell at a glance that the clothes he’s wearing aren’t cheap. The impressed looks the couple of other customers surreptitiously fire their way include  _ Akihito _ in those glances, not just Feilong and Asami. The scrutiny and attention make him feel awkward. 

 

He shakes it off. This isn’t about other people or shop employees. This is about Asami, and for all that he’s acting all stern and unbending right now, Aki would have to be blind not to notice the way his eyes are still shining, and that they just shine brighter with every box, blister pack, and oddly shaped metal contraption he snags from Aki and hands back for Feilong to deal with. Their Chinese lover has managed to procure a cart, and it’s starting to get kind of full. When Aki bypasses the display of brand new, professional DSLR cameras on his way to editing suites, Asami stops him. Akihito looks at him in confusion.

 

“You’ve been using the same couple of cameras since Ive met you. Why not upgrade to a new one? I’ve read the Nikon D850 and Canon EOS 5D are the top pro DSLR cameras on the market right now,” says the billionaire in a soft enough voice that Aki can clearly hear the warning in it. He laughs. Asami raises his eyebrows, then frowns.

 

“Oh, they’re great cameras, don’t get me wrong. But companies come out with new cameras every single year, and the differences between these and my 4 year old Pentax are like, pretty minimal. Plus I don’t have to buy super expensive Nikon or Canon lenses that  _ only  _ fit those cameras. I can use all kinds, that have universal attachment or adaptors. But the main reason I don’t want one of those is that they’re just too big, once you get the flash and lens and battery pack you want attached to it. Bulk isn’t what I want when I’m climbin’ trees or scaling buildings…”

 

“And here I thought the point of this was to allow you to stop doing those things,” says Asami wryly, with a smirk. Aki grins up at him.

 

“Well, it’s still a big difference, Sir. I wouldn’t be doing it to try to chase down some old pervert in a suit. But to me, some of the best images I capture come from unusual angles, or looking down on a perspective most people don’t see, so I guess I’m probably never gonna stop climbing. Look...er....Master? Do...do you know what actually makes a professional camera?’

 

“Enlighten me,” replies Asami, smiling. Akihito grins.

 

“It’s used by a professional.”

 

He continues on to the next aisle with Asami’s warm, low laughter following behind him. And it’s easy after that, somehow. Excitement catches up with trepidation and as he rounds the next aisle, leaves it in the dust.  _ I’m not here as a photographer, not even an artist, _ he thinks, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet, then blushing and glancing back at his Master because...are slaves supposed to always be dignified?...but Asami is smiling indulgently in a way that would probably make him want to throw the trimmed shrimp tails from dinner in his face on a normal day but not today…. _ I’m a slave with a hobby my owner likes cause of the erotic pictures I take for him and this is my reward and parta my job for him! _ So he ignores the other customer, and Feilong’s tiny scowl at being relegated to porter, and the looks he’s getting from the workers in the shop, and he chooses every single damn thing he’s ever dreamed of buying as he’s browsed the aisles in the past. Lenses, filters, screens, two different tripods, light filter, extra battery packs, Adobe lightroom so he can stop using the free apps he’s always used in the past to edit his pictures, a new carrying case designed like a glorified shoulder holster so he won’t drop his bag when he’s hanging from a tree or the lip of a building, a wireless trigger, backup storage device, and a bunch of spare memory cards. He scoffs a little at the stepladders and stools, but other than those, he’s pretty sure it’s enough to start his own studio if he wanted to. 

 

He decides to just...not look at all when the cashier rings everything up. It’s not like he doesn’t know already how much it all costs, but he knows that seeing it there in bright green digital numbers on the register’s screen might possibly make him a bit queasy, so he tries to look casual as he wanders a few steps away and pretends to be engrossed in a slideshow display of what the Canon can do. Tries so hard, in fact, that Asami’s hand sliding over the small of his back makes him flinch a little in surprise. 

 

Asami interrupts the previously offended but now ecstatic shop girl’s thanks to ask if there’s a restroom he might borrow. Aki’s ears burn bright red when he’s dragged along with the man while the girl stares after them in confusion, curiosity, then dawning interest. He’s shoved into the small bathroom and up against the sink, and it takes quite a bit of effort not to protest. Suddenly Asami is dropping to his knees in a  _ public restroom, _ his hands busily unbuckling Akihito’s brand new belt that cost as much as most of the other clothes he owns combined. Before he can wrestle his brain into gear to ask what on earth the man is thinking, his underwear (not as expensive as the belt but far more costly than underwear have any business being) are tucked under his balls and Asami’s hot mouth takes him in down to the hilt. He’s hard in seconds as that skillful tongue stroked the underside of his cock and the muscles of Asami’s throat squeeze around its head. He grips his lover’s shoulders hard and convulses, curling helplessly over the other man’s body and gasping, then biting his lip hard to keep from making any noise.

 

The shock of it, the titillation of being in the bathroom of a public place, and Asami’s consummate skill combine to have him coming so hard his toes cramp in his shoes. He’s still gasping and shaking a little when Asami licks him clean. But then there are fingers at the base of the plug, gently working it back and forth and he groans softly at the ache of tight muscle slowly loosening so Asami can tug it free.

 

“What…?” That’s pretty much all the words his poor brain has the function to parse together. Asami chuckles and uses a paper towel to clean him up a little.

 

“I haven’t trained you to wear one of these for hours on end. You were loose enough from Feilong fucking you that it was fine for a while, but I’m nowhere near done with you for today, and eventually your cute little hole would start to cramp if I made you keep it in much longer. Don’t worry, little slave. I’ll fill your hole with something else before too long.” Aki whimpers softly. He doesn’t know why it surprises him that the man reduces him to this so effortlessly still, but it does.

 

“And….and the blow job? Not that I don’t appreciate it….Sir. Because I do. But...but am I allowed to ask why?” Asami’s smirk widens, then suddenly vanishes and he’s quite solemn. 

 

“To thank you,” he says, and it doesn't sound like he’s making fun at all. Aki just stares at him, confused.

 

“You….you wanted to  _ thank _ me for letting you spend millions of yen on me?”

 

“Akihito,” says Asami quietly, putting the boy’s clothes to rights and rising to his feet more smoothly than anyone who’s been on his knees in a bathroom has any business doing, “I know that your….conceptions about how today would go and the reality of it so far are not at all in accord. Keeping your word to play this role has likely strained your comfort level a great deal, especially  _ this. _ Clothing….no matter how expensive, simply isn’t important to you. Photography is. I saw how hard it was for you, and I know it frightens you a little. But you did it anyway, gave me this. So, yes. Thank you.”

 

“Oh...I…..yes, Master,” mumbles Aki, blushing. Asami’s disconcertingly sincere smile vanishes, replaced by his customary smirk.

 

“Now, do you think you can walk, or shall I carry you out?”

 

“I...I….ugh. I can walk but. If you wish…”

 

Laughing, Asami shuts him up with a quick kiss.

 

“Come then. We have a lunch engagement in a short while.”

 

“Sir? Um. What about Feilong?” asks Akihito haltingly, not sure if he should or not. 

 

“What about Feilong?”

 

“Well, I mean, he’s been wearing the um. Thing. Just as long as I was. Longer, cause you didn’t take it out while he...he was….”

 

“Fucking you?” supplies Asami helpfully. The smirk sharpens at the edges like knives. “I’m not entirely sure Feilong has found his place yet today. Besides, he likes the pain. Come now, you must be hungry.”

 

As Akihito walks a step behind his Master, taking in the sight of him, still a little dizzy, and catches sight of his bagged purchases waiting by the door, he thinks that yes. Yes, he’s awfully hungry indeed.

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Certain things happen at their lunch date at a very luxurious restaurant where Akihito enjoys the food very much and meets some foreign business associates who have a proposal for Asami. Then one of them has a much less enjoyable proposal for Akihito, and unfortunate things happen that threaten to spoil their day....even many days to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small warning that some mean things happen to Akihito in this chapter. Try not to worry too much though, he's not the helpless victim he once was.

As they file back into the limo, Akihito’s curiosity is nearly killing him. Where are they going? Who are they going to meet there? Asami had mentioned an acquaintance, but does that mean someone with whom he does business or a different sort of acquaintance altogether? Breakfast seems a long time ago now, and he really is hungry, but his stomach is filled with butterflies. How will Asami introduce them? Will he have to sit on the floor, speak only when spoken to, eat only what and when he’s allowed? Such a thing would have pissed him off under almost every other conceivable circumstance, but as deeply immersed in this fantasy as he is, he finds himself curious and even a tiny bit aroused by the thought, since it’s just for play. Of course, the slowly fading grasping sensation inside him from having the plug removed and the memory of the sight of Asami on his knees in the bathroom at the photo store might possibly be adding to that arousal….

 

He glances from under his eyelashes at Feilong on Asami’s other side and can’t help but notice how his other lover shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He winces in sympathy. Poor Fei has been wearing  _ his _ plug for quite some time now. Does it really ache as much as Asami had said?  Feilong catches him peeking and gives him a wink and a reassuring smile. Asami, of course, since he’s a freak like that, notices every bit of it despite the fact that he’s on the phone apparently confirming their short arrival at their destination. Once he hangs up the phone, he turns his attention to Feilong and smirks.

 

“How does it feel?” he asks casually. “The plug.” In case the meaning weren’t obvious. Feilong’s beautiful face remains impassive, but there’s a tiny bit of tension around his eyes.

 

“It aches, Master,” he says softly.

 

“This is by far the longest I’ve made you keep one in of that size. Have you worked out the reason yet?” Feilong has the grace to flush a little, and looks down, sighing.

 

“I think so. I expected today to be entirely about Akihito, and I haven’t taken it as seriously as I should.” Asami nods.

 

“Just because the words are easy for you to say, just because it’s easy for you to kneel...Feilong, neither of you wear my collar. For you, it’s because although there isn’t a single part of your body you wouldn’t grant me willingly, I know part of your heart belongs to Yoh, and so I’d never ask it of you, any more than I’d ask it of Akihito for different reasons. You do both of us a disservice, and Aki too, by not trying just as hard as he is. Do you see?”

 

Feilong looks up at him in surprise, then the blush in his cheeks darkens.

 

“I….yes. I’m...sorry.”

 

“You’ll keep it in until after lunch, and then I’ll take it out and fuck you. You’ll be sore, so it will hurt a little, although I don’t think you’ll mind,” says Asami, smirking a little. Feilong’s small squirm only confirms this. “But you’re not allowed to come. After that we’ll move on.”

 

“I….yes, Master,” whispers Feilong. 

 

Akihito watches them in fascination. There’s something both dignified and beautiful about the exchange. Asami doesn’t seem angry, and though what he’s saying he’s going to do seems a little harsh, mostly because he expects it’s going to be nearly impossible for Feilong not to come if Asami does what he says, and if he’d been telling the truth in the bathroom when he’d said that a larger plug that’s left in for more than a little while starts to actually hurt, because they all know Feilong really likes that sort of thing. But his voice is gentle, understanding, and Feilong’s response had been so graceful, accepting without question. Is this part of what it means to be someone’s slave? He knows without a single doubt that he’d never be able to act like that all the time, but it’s a whole lot more appealing than he’d expected it to be.

 

He’s so fascinated by them that he doesn’t notice the place until the limo has slid to a smooth halt and Suoh is opening the door for them, then his jaw drops when he sees the unassuming sign over the door of the restaurant. Practically everyone has heard of RyuGin, world famous for its traditional Japanese food as well as innovative and fusion recipes, its head chef one of the best in the world. He does his best not to gape, mentally wrestling with his brain because  _ obviously _ the slave of the richest man in the nation wouldn’t stand on the sidewalk with his mouth hanging open. Still, he follows Asami and Feilong inside with very wide eyes. 

 

They widen further when the host greets them immediately and addresses Asami by name, bowing deeply with a genuine smile. Though  _ of course _ the staff here would know his lover by name. Of course they would.

 

“I hope this afternoon finds you well, Asami-sama. You and your companions,” says the impeccably dressed man in his black suit, starched white shirt and black tie, turning his head to include the two of them in his greeting. Feilong bows back and, blushing a little, Aki hurriedly follows suit. “Your private room awaits. Your guests have already arrived.”

 

They follow the host through the main dining room, perfectly elegant on its own, down a wood-paneled hallway, past a few closed shoji panels to the one at the very back, larger and more ornately carved than the others. With a discrete tap, the host slides the door open soundlessly to admit them. Inside, three men are already seated at the low table. A bottle of sake sits between them, along with a rectangular plate of small appetizers. One of them stands up to bow as they enter. Asami inclines his head and smiles.

 

“Robert. It’s good to see you again,” he says smoothly. Akihito can’t hear any tension in his voice, and the name rings a bell, though he can’t recall why. The other two men don’t stand, though they reach up to shake hands. “These are Liu Feilong and Takaba Akihito, my companions.” The man named Robert smiles at both of them and nods graciously, though the other two exchange glances that make Aki feel just a little uncomfortable. Asami hasn’t given them any sort of instructions, so Akihito does his best to mimic Feilong and murmurs something polite when Feilong returns the man’s greeting respectfully, although he’s forced to do so in Japanese as he doesn’t speak English beyond a handful of words. 

 

They’re ordered quietly to take seats on either side of Asami, but since the polished teak table is so low, the padded seating arrangements are already on the floor. All three Asian men leave their shoes by the door, but Akihito only sees one other pair of shoes there, and since the man called Robert had stood when they entered, he’s pretty sure the other two Americans are still wearing theirs. It’s a little startling, but he’s read enough and watched enough television to know that it’s not terribly common for Americans to take off their shoes, especially in restaurants and the like, so he assumes they just don’t know.

 

“I’ve taken the liberty of ordering for us, since you expressed interest in experiencing fine traditional dining. This place has no equal in my city,” says Asami smoothly. You have to know him to hear the small emphasis he places on the word  _ My. _

 

The food is amazing. Asami serves Aki and Feilong from the parade of platters and bowls brought in by an array of beautiful servers. Unsure what to do, Akihito keeps his hands folded in his lap, noticing that Feilong does too. The look Asami gives him when he tilts his head towards Aki’s plate is very warm, and the small upwards quirk of his lips sends a small shiver of excitement up the photographer’s spine. Permission granted, they both begin to eat.

 

Akihito can’t understand any of what the four men are talking about, except for the occasional word borrowed from English because there isn’t one in Japanese, and within a few minutes he remembers where he’s heard the man Robert’s name mentioned. He’d been travelling with Asami’s friends Heinrich and Alex when they’d visited a few months ago, on that awful night when that crazy woman had kidnapped Asami. Now Aki also remembers that the American owns a fetish club in….California? And that he’d been visiting several countries in hopes of expanding. That must be what this lunch is about. The other two Americans seem to be investment partners of his, because from their behavior they’re certainly not this Robert person’s submissives the way Fei and Aki are for Asami today. They speak when they wish, even interrupting, and the looks they give Feilong and Akihito are very direct and frankly appraising. A couple of times Feilong, who speaks English just fine, goes a little stiff at something one or the other of them says, but since he’s not drawing any knives, Aki assumes it’s just the general cultural difference between their countries that makes them rude and not anything deserving of bloodshed. 

 

He decides to ignore them and concentrate on his food, because he’s rarely tasted anything so fine. He tries to keep his reactions hidden, he really does, but it’s just so  _ good _ that the occasional small moan of appreciation escapes his lips when he samples something truly exquisite. He doesn’t think anything of it until it dawns on him that the room has gone silent. Hesitantly, he looks up and realizes that every eye in the room is on him. Feilong and Asami, well acquainted with Aki’s relationship to food, look amused and even affectionate, but the three American businessmen, active members of the BDSM lifestyle in the United States, are watching him with frank appraisal and he’s not sure he likes the faint shine of lust in their eyes. Blushing, he ducks his head and whispers an apology to Asami. His Master chuckles and leans over to whisper in his ear.

 

“Don’t worry, my cute little pet. You’ve done nothing wrong. While their staring is a bit rude, things  _ are _ different in America, and it’s a compliment for one Dominant to appreciate the charms of another’s attractive slave. You’re being very good, and I’m pleased with you.”

 

Mollified and shocked by how happy this makes him, Aki whispers back a shy thank you and returns to his meal. The quiet conversation continues, interspersed with the astonishing variety of platters of food that are never allowed to run empty. Akihito recognizes the names of several dishes from Asami’s lips and assumes he’s explaining to the other businessmen what they are, but he’s enjoying the delectable tastes too much to pay very much attention. Although he’s grown accustomed to eating very well, since Asami only buys the very best and freshest ingredients, he himself is only a relatively decent home cook, not a Michelin star chef, and everything is so good it’s nearly orgasmic on his tongue.

 

Eventually, the conversation turns to, not the proposed club itself, but the habits of the people who will theoretically attend it. Asami, presumably for Akihito’s benefit, finally begins to translate the conversation. This raises the eyebrows of the two strangers, but his lover pays no attention to their surprise.

 

“They’re asking about the two of you,” murmurs Asami in his ear, causing Akihito to pause in bringing a bite of perfectly prepared yakitori to his mouth. “I’ve just explained to them that yes, today you are my slaves, but that it’s for this day only.” Asami snorts briefly in a very low tone. “They seem somewhat disdainful of the usual manner of our relationship, and think I should do a better job bringing you to heel on a permanent basis as you make a very fine slave.”

 

Aki glances at him, unsure as to whether or not he should be allowed to speak.

 

“It’s all right. They don’t understand Japanese.”

 

“I...I guess I should be flattered, Sir,” he whispers carefully. And he is. Sort of.  _ Brought to hell _ makes him want to bristle, but that he’s doing a good enough job that the men had assumed him to be a full time slave and think he ought to be fills him with a startling sense of pride. It’s more for Asami’s sake than his own. He knows Asami had stopped attending clubs and parties with other people like these, for his sake, because he’d known (correctly, at the time) that it would have been far too alarming for Aki to accept. 

 

“Well,” muses Asami with a fleeting grin for his benefit, “it  _ is _ a compliment, but don’t forget that I like you fine just the way you are. Not to mention,” he adds with some sardonic amusement, “I’d like to see someone try to bring you to heel and force you into this.”

 

Akihito hides the giggle that wants to escape by taking a sip of tea, then glances up at Asami from under his eyelashes. “Today you could,” he breathes, “if you wanted to go to one of those places like you’re all talking about building.” Asami raises his eyebrows.

 

“Would you  _ like _ to go, or are you saying so because you think  _ I’d _ like it?”

 

“I...I think maybe I would, if you do too. I’ve been kind of curious for a while.”

 

“That could be arranged. We’ll talk about it later, and if you still want to, I know just the place.”

 

“Okay. I mean, yes, Sir,” says Aki, then turns back to his meal when the four men seem to leave the subject behind..

 

As the meal finally begins to wind down and plates of desserts, along with a lighter tea are brought in, there is something of a change in the air between all the men conducting the meeting. Asami, Robert and Feilong decline dessert (though Akihito notices that Fei glances just a tiny bit wistfully at some of the sweets), and all but one of them (one of the two strangers) climb to their feet, including Feilong. Asami crouches down to speak to Aki.

 

“It appears we have come to an accord, and Feilong and I are about to become partners in an upscale Fetish club to be built in the very near future,” he says, speaking softly, the smile on his lips tickling Akihito’s hair and sending an involuntary shiver down his spine which Asami, of course, notices. He chuckles quietly.

 

“R-really? Cool!”

 

“Mm. If you enjoy yourself tonight, perhaps we shall have to become somewhat regular attendees. To ensure my investment is running smoothly of course.” The shiver becomes more pronounced as Aki thinks about it, almost certainly Asami’s intention as his voice has gone even deeper than usual, a low baritone rumble in his ear. Then he continues more briskly. “As you know, it’s rude to conduct actual business at the table beyond discussion, so we’re going to adjourn to the manager’s office here to go over the paperwork, make necessary changes, and sign it. They’ve been told Feilong is my business partner as well as my….submissive partner, so I’ll need him to accompany us. We won’t be long. This man here is Eric Milton. He’s Mr. Elliot’s accountant, so his signature nor presence will be required. Eat all the sweets you like, my good little slave. You’ve more than earned them. I’ve asked Mr. Milton to watch out for you so that you won’t be disturbed. He’s here to make sure you’re able to finish your desserts in peace. He may be a Dominant, but he’s not  _ your _ Dominant, so you don’t have to obey him. He knows you don’t speak English, so he probably won’t even attempt to speak to you. We should be back in 15 minutes or so. Certainly not much longer, and then we’ll head home for a while. You’ve been so very good and our FeiFei’s been rather naughty, so I find I’m inclined to play with you both just a little before we continue with our day.”

 

With this entirely distracting statement that causes a marked stirring in Akihito’s shockingly expensive trousers, Asami rises and leads the other four men out of the private dining room, speaking in a low voice to the server who hovers outside. She leads them away and the shoji slides shut behind them.

 

With a shy smile and a nod at the man named Eric, Aki reaches for a plate of namagashi. He fumbles his chopsticks and nearly drops them when the other man suddenly scoots closer and leans in (much too close to be polite, right in Akihito’s personal space, which no decent Japanese person would do without permission, long familiarity or the type of relationship shared by Aki and his lovers), and speaks to him in rather halting but perfectly understandable Japanese.

 

“You really are a very cute little thing. I’m honored that your Master left me to watch out for you.”

 

“Uh,” says Akihito, disconcerted, trying to surreptitiously scoot himself a bit farther away. He doesn’t want to make Asami look bad and the man probably doesn’t know he’s bein rude. “Th-thank you sir. I….I’m in your care.” He keeps his eyes fixed on his plate and regains control of his eating utensils.

 

“Hm,” says the man, whose name Aki can’t remember for the life of him, “since that’s the case, I think I deserve a little thanks for taking care of Mr. Asami’s valuable property. Surely he’s trained you well. You’ve been seducing us all with that cute little mouth and those sexy sounds throughout our lunch. Why don’t you be a good boy and show me what else you can do with it?”

 

Akihito stiffens, and the bite of his dessert falls from his chopsticks to roll across the table. He turns his head to stare at the man in shock. The expression on the American’s face has morphed alarmingly from appraising and appreciative to a flat, hard shine of lust in his murky brown eyes. 

 

“I….I’m sorry for the misunderstanding,” says Akihito nervously. “It...wasn’t my intention to seduce  _ anybody. _ And...it’s just that Asami….my Master….doesn’t share.”

 

He’s trying to be polite, to show respect, because for all he knows, something like this  _ is _ normal in a lot of circles of people like this. He remembers that Asami told him that he once played with Heinrich’s slave Alex. But he  _ knows _ , beyond any doubt, that Asami would never expect him to let this stranger touch him in any way, so the man just must be used to it from other people and has misread the situation.

 

“Don’t be absurd. You’re a slave, no matter what your  _ Master _ may have tried to make us believe, and a slave’s job is to obey. Now why don’t you get up on your knees and show me what else you can do with that mouth,” growls the man. For just a moment, Akihito is frightened, but then the fear vanishes in a surge of anger. He does scramble up from his seat, but onto his feet, where he stands glaring down at the man with his fists clenched.

 

“I may not know very much about being a slave, but I know that my….that  _ Asami _ ….will kill you if you lay a hand on me. If you just stop talking bullshit, then maybe I won’t tell him and you can walk out of here with your job and anything else you value still intact,” he hisses furiously. The man’s eyebrows shoot up, and for one awesome moment, Aki thinks he’s going to back down and stomp out of the room.

 

He doesn’t.

 

Because Akihito is unprepared for it, he’s unable to dodge the Eric’s hand when it flies out and slaps him hard across the face, then clenches in his hair. The man outweighs him by a good 50 or 60 pounds, and when he jerks, the young photographer feels several of his hairs torn out by the roots. He yelps. The American yanks him close, his mouth twisted in a cruel sneer.

 

“Ohh, I see. So you’re one of those who likes being punished. Well, we’ll just see if you become more agreeable once I’ve taken my belt to you a few dozen times.”

 

It’s not terribly easy to control an unwilling victim while unbuckling and pulling free a leather belt, so Akihito makes the most of it. He struggles like a mad thing, despite the tearing pain in his scalp, while the stranger wrestles with his own belt. For a glorious second he manages to wrench himself free, but having access to both hands gives the other man the freedom to whip his belt out of his pants. He lunges as Akihito flees towards the shoji, tripping in the process. Unfortunately, his forward momentum hurls him close enough to grab Aki’s ankle, and the boy falls heavily to the floor, crying out in pain as his face collides with the hardwood floor. Momentarily dazed, he’s unable to clear his vision or regain his equilibrium. When his vision clears, the man has him pinned face down and is yanking roughly at his fancy new trousers. Akihito cries out in dismay when he feels the button tear loose. His skinny hips do little to prevent his pants from being yanked down, despite the fact that he does his best to kick the man until his legs are trapped by his own pants around his thighs.

 

“Such a naughty slave,” pants the American, pressing his weight against the younger, smaller man. “Oh, you need to be punished severely. You’ll be begging to be allowed to use that pretty mouth on my cock. Or maybe you’d rather have a dry welcome to teach you your place. Just as well since I don’t have any lube on me.”

 

Akihito’s anger vanishes in a wash of icy terror. No, this can’t be happening. He’s never heard the phrase “dry welcome” but he can well imagine what it must mean, considering the man’s other words. He fights harder, panting through his open mouth in terror and denial.

 

“Please,” he gasps, “please stop. He’s going to kill you. I didn’t consent to this. Get off me!”

 

“Consent,” snorts the Eric. “You signed that away when you chose to become a slave.”

 

“I’m not a slave,” cries Aki, bucking against the man’s weight. A sick feeling settles in his stomach when he feels something hard pressed against his hip. “Asami and Feilong are my….my….ungh, ow….my  _ boyfriends. _ We’re  _ roleplaying. _ I don’t have a collar. Let me go. Don’t you know who he  _ is _ ?”

 

“Got a mouth on you, don’t you,” sneers the man, ignoring every word out of Akihito’s mouth. Pain explodes across his ass, driving his hips cruelly against the floor. It’s not the belt. The bastard has struck him with his hand as hard as he can. Aki cries out in pain and wriggles madly.

 

“Stop it, stop it,” he yells, tears welling up in his eyes. Instead, the man hits him again, even harder. The pain is deep and bruising, nothing at all like when Asami spanks him with his hand.

 

“Lie still like a good little slave for your punishment and I’ll stop doing it. Do you hear me?”

 

“I hear you,” mutters Akihito thickly, his mind racing. This asshole seems to actually expect him to lie still on the floor, face down, and let himself be beaten with the fucker’s belt. To be still if the man gets off him and just...let it happen. Despite his fear, he remembers Asami’s lessons in what to do if he finds himself kidnapped or something similar.

 

_ Give them what they want, as much as you can, so that they won’t hurt you any worse. When the think you’ve given in, you can often find an opportunity to escape. _

 

Akihito stops struggling and lies still.

 

“Are you going to be good for me now?” asks the American.

 

“Yes,” mutters Aki through gritted teeth. It becomes easier to breathe when some of the weight is lifted off his back, but Eric’s knee still digs into his spine, and one hand clamps hard around the back of his neck. There’s a pause, and Akihito hears the slither of leather as the man does something with his belt; doubling it over or wrapping it around his fist. While he’s distracted, Aki sucks in a deep breath, then chokes on it when a rough hand grabs his ass and fondles it roughly, blunt fingertips burrowing between his cheeks. The tip of one brushes his still-wet hole just a little, and the tears in his eyes spill over. Closing his eyes tightly in refusal, he shoves down the panic and breathes in deeply once again. And shrieks at the top of his lungs.

 

“ASAMI! ASAMI HELP ME!!”

 

Cursing him, the man leans over him to clamp a hand over his mouth, letting go of his neck. Snarling breathlessly, when he feels the American’s panting breath rustling his hair, Akihito throws his head back as hard as he can. He’s gratified to feel a heavy crunch as his head slams into the man’s face. The howl or rage covers the sound of the shoji panel being wrenched open so hard it jumps off its smooth track. The weight holding him down vanishes abruptly, and the room erupts in chaos.

 

Akihito scrambles to his feet, yanking his pants up. As he takes in the sight of the man crumbled to the floor against the opposite wall, having apparently been hurled there, with Asami and Feilong standing over him with guns in their hands, he feels hands on his arms, helping him to his feet and steadying him. Looking over his shoulder, he sees Robert is the one helping him. He looks horrified and angry. The other American stands nearby, looking confused.

 

Robert says something in English, directed at his slumped accountant. 

 

“This slave refused to obey me,” snarls Eric somewhat breathlessly, still speaking Japanese. “I was disciplining him.” Asami and Feilong let out twin sounds that are not entirely human. Robert switches to very halting Japanese.

 

“Fool. You had no right. This boy is no one’s slave, least of all yours. I think I may understand now why you’ve never been able to keep one of your own.”

 

Ignoring Robert completely, Asami turns his head to stare penetratingly at Akihito.

 

“Are you all right?” he asks. His voice is quiet. You have to know him to hear the rage vibrating beneath the words.

 

“I’m okay,” replies Aki, albeit a little shakily. “He didn’t hurt me, not really. Asshole. Er. Sorry, M-master.”

 

“None of that right now,” says Asami, much more gently. “Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah. Yes, I’m sure. He smacked me a couple of times….” Aki blanches a little when Asami’s expression turns coldly murderous. “I gave him that though,” he nods at the accountant’s bloody nose.

 

“What a good boy,” murmurs Asami, then glances coolly at Robert. “Do you find yourself attached to this business partner of yours? Particularly?”

 

“He’s not my business partner. He’s just a scene friendly number cruncher,” snaps Robert angrily. “If something should happen with that gun in your hand which I’m certain I’ve never seen before in my life, after what we’ve just seen, I’m sure he won’t be missed.” Asami doesn’t respond to this, but looks at Akihito again.

 

“What would you have me do, Aki-kun?” he asks, startling his lover. It’s just that Asami has never  _ asked _ before.

 

“I….don't kill him. I mean, is it really worth the hassle in a public restaurant? Plus think of your relationship with the chef. I’m okay, I promise.

 

“He struck you.”

 

“Well….yeah,” says Akihito darkly. Then, eyeing Asami a little nervously, he marches up to the slumped form of the American, pulls his leg back, and kicks him solidly in the crotch. Asami snorts softly with repressed laughter. 

 

“I believe we could alter the specifics of our agreement so that you and yours would be 50 percent owners of our venture,” offers Robert hesitantly. “In recompense for the offense.:

 

Feilong, sensing to his apparent disappointment that he’s probably not going to get to shoot anyone, holsters his firearm and slowly draws a very sharp blade from a cleverly hidden sheath in his sleeve. With a disdainful sniff, he turns his back on Eric and approaches the entrepreneur. Robert manages not to flinch back, which probably earns him a few points.

 

“Recompense?” says Fei softly. “Do you have any idea how much this boy is worth to the two of us? Even an inkling?” Robert blanches a bit, but stands firm.

 

“Asami-s...sama spoke highly of him at our dinner a few months ago. Heinrich gave me to understand that he’s never done such a thing before, or stayed with any play partner for more than a night or two. I know the two of you mean a great deal to him, and how rare that is. Believe me, I knew nothing of this….creature’s….appetites. He’s not my partner in this. I don’t know how it works here, but in America there is a database of professionals who are either personally involved in or at least friendly to the lifestyle. I needed a number-cruncher for this project who’d understand what it’s about. That is all. We…” he glances at his  _ actual _ partner, who looks quite shaken but also angry, “would never treat any submissive in such a way. Not one of our own and especially not someone else’s. As far as I’m concerned, you can do with him as you see fit.”

 

The man on the floor protests loudly at this, his voice somewhat wet and muffled by his probably broken nose and strained by the pain in his nether parts, but Robert looks down his nose and does not respond. Feilong heaves a put-upon sigh and the knife vanishes once again.

 

“I’ll call Kuroda,” says Asami, mostly managing to hide his disappointment. “Akihito is unfortunately correct. I like this restaurant and would like to be able to return. Besides, he finds it distressing when I shoot people. Perhaps just a little bit?” He smirks at Aki with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Just nothing permanent, please Sir….I...I don’t want the rest of our day to get spoiled,” begs Akihito. Asami’s other eyebrow goes up as well. Asami pulls out his phone and presses a button. There’s a short pause.

 

“Kuroda. I need you to come to RyuGin. An American has assaulted one of the patrons. He’s been subdued, but I’m sure the proprietor would like him removed with due haste…..no. I’ll fill you in later. Yes, there will be someone here to make a statement…..Of course he’s still breathing, what do you take me for? Yamamoto would never forgive me.” He hangs up the phone, then casually leans down and hauls the accountant to his feet by the front of his shirt. The man babbles unintelligible things. Probably begging for his life. Asami doesn’t respond to any of it, but hauls the man close to he can stare unblinkingly into the panicked, rolling eyes.

 

“No one,” he says softly. “ _ No one _ touches what’s mine. If I ever see your face again, which is unlikely considering the associate of mine who is currently on his way to fetch you, the inside of a Japanese prison will seem like a five star hotel compared to where you’ll spend the very short but shockingly painful last moments of your miserable life.” He lets go with a rather harsh shove, putting the American forcefully back on the ground with a wall-rattling thud. The man has at least enough sense to stay there. Then Asami turns his back, and Akihito knows it’s only for his sake and that it’s very hard for Asami to do, and faces Robert Elliston. He inclines his head in a small show of respect, meant to illustrate the man is forgiven. “I’d be obliged if you’d remain to give the good Inspector your statement. What you tell him is your business, but I’d be obliged if that choice were to ensure that this….creature...does not see the light of day again. I believe we can still do business. I’d as soon keep Akihito….and myself….out of the situation. We’ll bid you good afternoon.”

 

“That won’t be a problem,” says Robert darkly. He turns as they all walk together towards the door with a bow of respect, but they are already gone.

 

Once they’ve reached the limo, Akihito finds himself hauled into Asami’s lap, strong arms holding him almost too tightly.

 

“I’m so sorry, Akihito, “ mutters Asami into his hair. “I should not have left you alone.”

 

Although he’s trembling a little, Aki pulls back to look into Asami’s troubled golden eyes.

 

“Hey,” he says softly. “It’s okay. I’m all right. You came. I knew you’d come. You always do.” Asami sighs.

 

“Let’s go home. Akihito, I can’t thank you enough for today. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Perhaps someday….”

 

“Wait, what?” cries Aki, struggling a little against the arms that hold him tightly. “No! Asami, please, there’s….I know you’ve got other stuff planned. I don’t want to stop, please!” Asami’s head rears back a little in surprise.

 

“After what happened, you still wish to continue?”

 

“Well….yeah? I mean, if every asshole who tries to shoot one of us or kidnap somebody or whatever got to ruin our day, we’d never have any fun at all. Besides, you said. You….” he ducks his head with his ears turning pink. “You said I was good, and I get a reward. And...and you said you were gonna fuck FeiFei when we get home. How’s that gonna be? He’s been wearing the….thing….a long time. Right? And….and I wanna go to that club you talked about, tonight. I’m okay, I promise. Um. Maybe no paddles for a couple days? But….please?” 

 

With some difficulty, he wriggles out of Asami’s grasp, mostly because Asami lets him, and slides off his lap to kneel on the floor.

 

“Please….erm. Master? I…. _ we _ ...don’t want it to be over. Not yet.”

 

There’s really nothing to say to that. Asami nods, then throws his head back against the seat and laughs for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter because I feel there's an important message in it. Just because someone is a slave or submissive does not mean they are submissive to just anyone, or that they should allow themselves to be taken advantage of or abused by anyone calling themselves a Dominant. You are not a doormat. Your gift has no price, and you have the right and even the obligation to defend yourself if the need arises. No one should feel obligated to submit to being hurt, or to say yes when they want to say no. It's a Dominant's job to earn your desire to obey them, not their gods given right to just expect it. Apologies for the lack of smut, but I promise there is more coming. Poor Feilong will suffer just a bit in the next chapter, while Akihito is treated like the very good boy he is.


End file.
